Missouri-based Tracy Butler studied Biology in college before embracing her true path in the visual arts, and went on to work for a small game development studio as an illustrator and concept artist, her roles eventually spanning 3D character artist, animation and art directing. It was her comic Lackadaisy, inspired by the history surrounding the century-old home she’d recently moved into, as well as her appreciation for cats, that garnered her international attention in the mid-to-late naughties. A story of bootlegging jazz cats that would ultimately get itself an Eisner award in 2011, its most recent iteration is a phenomenally successful animated adaptation. Bringing on board Fable Siegel, an incredible artist whose body of work includes animation for Titmouse, Starburns, Hazbin Hotel, Game Grumps as well as storyboarding for shows including F is For Family, Ben 10, Adam Ruins Everything: Reanimated History and Wacky Races, the highly anticipated, 27-minute film was released at the end of March to much excitement, following a hugely successful Kickstarter campaign in 2020.

Joining forces with Spike Trotman of Iron Circus Comics, the team massively exceeded their initial crowdfunding goal of $85,000 grand, eventually raising over $330,000, ultimately allowing them to realise the dream of many an indie artist and filmmaker and create a 27 minute film on their own terms and true to their vision.

Upon its release, Lackadaisy became an online phenomenon, with over 3.5 million views in its first week. Boasting an enormous roster of fantastic artistic talent, a solid cast and engaging music by Sepiatonic, the film has also caught the attention of prominent figures such as indie legend Ralph Bakshi, illustrator Tyson Hesse and director Lilly Wachowski.

Stream the podcast below or direct download here.

For more on the project visit the official Lackadaisy site.

The post Lackadaisy | Podcast interview with Tracy Butler and Fable Siegel appeared first on Skwigly Animation Magazine.

Cover image: Salvation Has No Name (Dir. Joseph Wallace)

Written by Skwigly Editor in Chief Ben Mitchell, the book features an enormous array of exclusive input from many of the most prominent and prolific names in indie animation, as well as curational insight from the teams behind some of the industry’s biggest events, festivals and distribution avenues.

The brand new 2023 edition includes updated and additional content from the original 2016 publication, with new case study interviews including filmmakers Joseph Wallace, Don Hertzfeldt, David OReilly, Kirsten Lepore, Joost Lieuwma and Tünde Vollenbroek, composers Skillbard, David Kamp and Philip Brookes as well as unique insight into the worlds of funding, festivals and distribution from Kieran Argo, Helen Brunsdon (British Animation Awards), Luce Grosjean (MIYU Distribution), Steve Henderson (Manchester Animation Festival), Rob Munday (Short of the Week, Director’s Notes), Lauren Orme (Cardiff Animation Festival), Chris Robinson (Ottawa International Animation Festival), Daniel Šuljić (Animafest Zagreb), Marie Valade (Festival Stop Motion Montréal), Nag Vladermersky (London International Animation Festival) and Aaron Wood (Animation-Festivals.com)

With the advent of advanced hand-held technology and the widespread nature of the Internet, the world of animated filmmaking is more exciting and accessible than ever. Due to this cultural and technological development, the success of independent animated film makers is on the rise. Independent Animation: Developing, Producing and Distributing Your Animated Films (Second Edition) showcases some of the greatest, most innovative giants in the field and helps guide readers through the artistic process and production techniques. Story development, casting, color theory, distribution and the intimidating aspects of production are elucidated using various examples of acclaimed, viral and award-winning animated films from all over the world. Readers will also explore the changing nature of audiences, festivals and distributors’ relationships with animation and be granted first-hand guidance in navigating the diverse fields of animated filmmaking.

Key Features:

• Covers the entire process of creating an independent animated film from story development and casting to editing and distribution
• Presents a comprehensive array of classic and contemporary case studies covering all manner of production methods from traditional pipelines to avant-garde, auteur and experimental approaches
• Features input and exclusive insight into the working processes of some of the industry’s most noteworthy indie animation talents, including Signe Baumane, Adam Elliot, Don Hertzfeldt, Kirsten Lepore, Robert Morgan, David OReilly, PES, Bill Plympton, Rosto, Chris Shepherd and dozens more
• Additional resources and interviews are available through a special section of Skwigly Online Animation Magazine.

Independent Animation: Developing, Producing and Distributing Your Animated Films (Second Edition) is available now through Routledge/CRC Press, with free shipping if ordered directly from the publisher. Plus, receive a whopping 20% discount if purchased at any point in April 2023!

The post Second Edition of the Skwigly book ‘Independent Animation’ out now appeared first on Skwigly Animation Magazine.

From an early age, songs and fairytales convince Zelma that Love would solve all her problems as long as she abides by societal expectations of how a girl should act. But as she grows older something doesn’t seem right with this concept of love: the more she tries to conform, the more her body resists. A story of inner-female rebellion.

Having had its national premiere as part of the 75th Edinburgh International Film Festival and on the heels of being nominated for the European Film Awards (Best Animated Feature) and being picked up by Paris-based distributor Tamasa Distribution this week, the film will be headed to the UK in the coming days and months as part of the official selection of several major film festivals:

Raindance Film Festival

• October 30th | 6:30pm | Genesis Cinema (Info/Tickets)

Featuring an in person Q&A with Director Signe Baumane and Producer Sturgis Warner in collaboration with the Female Film Club.

Manchester Animation Festival

• November 14th | 10:30am | HOME Cinema 2 (Info/Tickets)
• November 17th | 8:16pm | HOME Cinema 2 (Info/Tickets)

The screening on Thu 17 Nov will be followed by a pre-recorded Q&A with director Signe Baumane.

London International Animation Festival

• December 1st | 9:00am | Horse Hospital (Info/Tickets)

To follow the journey of the film visit its official website and Facebook page. Hear more about the beginnings of My Love Affair With Marriage in our 2017 podcast interview (stream below or direct download here):

The post Signe Baumane’s ‘My Love Affair With Marriage’ to screen at UK festivals appeared first on Skwigly Animation Magazine.

It’d be great to kind of hear a bit about your own background and how you came to be involved with the festival.

I actually came at it from an animator’s point of view – about 25 years ago I was actually making independent, short films myself. At the time, I was living in Australia and one of the films that I made with my partner did relatively well on the independent animation festival circuit, it went to most of the major festivals around then, like Stuttgart, Ottawa, Annecy, and I was lucky enough to get invited to go along and visit these festivals. At the time I didn’t really know that much about festivals but I was really excited to get invited and talk about my film. Then I came back to Melbourne, where I was living at the time, and with my partner and a guy who was running the animation component of the New Zealand Film Festival, we decided just to set up a small three day animation event with some of the films we’d seen through our travels. We screened that in a small theater in Melbourne and it was hugely successful; there were literally people queuing around the block, just all through word of mouth. That gave us the bug to start something.

Then I relocated back to London and I just decided to start putting on one-off events here and there. Curzon cinema in Soho was our first major venue, and it just grew and grew. We started applying for some more funding and eighteen years later here we are, with a ten day, mammoth festival. It employs three of us pretty much full time but we very much have what I like to call a ‘DIY ethic’. I don’t have any degrees in business or marketing, it’s just all through talking to people and finding out what they want to see. We’ve always got loads of ideas for stuff we want to work on so it’s very much still at a passion project for us all.

And is there still a connection to Melbourne as well? I remember there being events that were tied to each other…

Yeah, very much. I mean, the Melbourne festival is still going, it’s had a rough time the last two years because of the pandemic. In fact, the last festival had to get canceled at the very last minute and would have been the 20th anniversary, so that’s a shame. Now, Malcolm, who’s the main festival director there, is looking towards doing a big one for the 25th anniversary. But yeah, we have very big connections we share. One of the major things we do is we share the entries, they come to both of us and we have an enormous amount of entries that come our way; this year it was getting close to 2500 entries. And pretty much half of them come into Melbourne and half of them come to London and we just database them all and share the links with each other. A lot of the films that get screened in Melbourne do get screened in London, and vice versa. So we share that, Malcolm does a lot of writing for our festival, he comes over and visits often as well. So yeah, there’s big connections.

Can you tell me a bit about what goes into curating the special programs of the festival?

We like to go and visit archives in the country of the festival – for instance Malcolm spent a significant amount of time in Hungary looking at several archives from Pannonia. We like to meet the filmmakers and the animators as well and do interviews with them, because that sort of informs the screenings. So all of those specialised screenings are a continual side of things that we’re always thinking about. There’s other people we have very strong and long-standing relationships with who curate programs specifically for LIAF, such as Edwin Rostron, who runs Edge of Frame and has been curating screenings for LIAF for about five years now. They’re more towards the experimental side of animation and this year he’s curated two fantastic programs, one looking at the work of Robert Breer, an amazing animator who has also influenced a lot of contemporary animators today. The other program is the contemporary animators who are influenced by his work and some of the work they have made. Also, there’s Abigail Addison who curates the fantastic Figures in Focus programmes for LIAF. These are films made by female and non-binary animators in recognition of the under-representation of their stories within the independent animation sector,

With this year going hybrid is it exciting to welcome filmmakers and attendees back to the festival in person?

Oh, yeah, absolutely it’s just great because for us, personally, and I think most of the festivals, a lot filmmakers come along, to talk about their films and screen their films. Even this year, with COVID, we’ve got filmmakers coming over from America, we’ve got a couple coming from France, loads of British filmmakers will be there as well, to introduce their films and meet other filmmakers and meet the audience – and the audience loves to see a filmmaker in the flesh, talking about the process or how they made their film. It’s a big part of the whole festival experience, having filmmakers there, up on stage, talking about it. In the past we’ve had workshops from some of these filmmakers but we haven’t got back to that stage yet, that’s still on hold. Hopefully we’ll get back to doing that as well, but yeah, the live talks and live appearances by filmmakers are really important, and the networking parties afterwards. The whole in-cinema thing is all about a celebration of animation, so you want to do that with the audience and the filmmakers.

What are some other festival highlights from this year’s edition?

Well, apart from all of the general competition screenings – there are 80 films in our main eight competition screenings this year – we have other competitive screenings, like the music video program. We’ve got the Best of British Showcase screening, which is also competitive. Of the more themed or specialised programs we’re focusing on this year, the big one is three Japanese screenings as part of the BFI Japan 2021 series of screenings. This has been a longtime project for us, it got postponed largely because of COVID. We really wanted to screen this stuff in cinema so we left it for another year. One of them’s a retrospective look at Atsushi Wada, who’s been making films for about 20 years now and they’ve screened at all of the major animation festivals. He’s only had one retrospective worldwide before but he’s got a particular, very beautiful, quite still drawing style, very much influenced by Japanese Noh theater and the concept of Ma, which is to do with stillness. They’re just quite surreal short films involving some weird interactions between humans and animals, to put it in a nutshell! The films have won awards at not just animation festivals, but other short film festivals. One of his films, The Great Rabbit, a few years ago won the Silver Bear at Berlin. He’s a fantastic animator, so we’ve got a whole focus on him. He’s also part of a screen talk we’re doing with another Japanese animator called Sarina Nihei, who studied at the Royal College of Art. She’s very influenced by Estonian animation and she’s made about four or five short films. She’s also part of a screening of independent Japanese animation we’re screening.

We’ve looked back at some of the films we’ve screened over the last year 10 years and we put together a program called The Trippy Worlds of Indie Japanese Animation, and it’s wild! The third Japanese screening we’ve got is a premiere of this amazing feature film, seven years in the making. It’s called Junk Head and it’s a 75 minute-long stop-motion sci-fi action thriller. The person who made it, Takahide Hori, is a self taught animator, and it’s just incredible. He’s literally done everything himself, all the sets, all of the puppets, he’s even done all the sound himself. He originally taught himself just from YouTube tutorials. It’s absolutely incredible and it’s a one off screening at the Barbican, we’re not allowed to screen it online so it’s literally the only chance people get to see it this year. I imagine next year it will be on the film festival circuit in a huge way but it’s been doing really, really well in Japan in cinemas as well. So we’re very excited to be screening that.

This year, the title of the opening night program from Figures in Focus is Up Yours as a homage to the X-Ray Spex/Poly Styrene song Oh Bondage! Up Yours! from the 1970s. It’s basically a program all about revolt and protesting against stuff that’s going on now. It’s a great selection of films, everything’s up on our website now and those are some of the highlights.

The full programme for LIAF 2021, which runs from November 26th-December 5th, is available at LIAF.ORG.UK

The post LIAF 2021: Q&A with Nag Vladermersky appeared first on Skwigly Animation Magazine.

Brunch (dir. Marnik Loysen)

The dichotomies and in-fighting within our community are packed deliciously into this short stop-motion film. The bold puppets’ design and level of detail given to the backgrounds create a perfect homage to everything that has come to signify the current popular culture, from the reproduction prints of botanical illustrations to painted industrial brick walls, hacked IKEA furniture, house plants, hashtags and the never-ending options for a bespoke coffee order that infuriate the old, humiliate the young but are ultimately humourous in their utter frivolity when compared to the real issues that orbit and impact us all.

We were lucky enough to catch some time with Marnik as the film begins its festival journey, having premiered this month at 2021 Encounters Film Festival.

Can you start by telling me a little bit about yourself and how you started working in animation?

I went to university in 2015 to study animation, but quickly found that it wasn’t really the right place for me. So, I was looking for ways out and managed to get a job at Aardman on Early Man as an assistant animator and I have been there ever since on all their feature films, TV specials and series. I have also been trying to make my own stuff in the gaps between projects at Aardman. That’s really the aim, to try and find a balance between working on my own stuff and getting paid. Which recently has been a good balance, but we’ll see, it’s always difficult.

Can you describe the idea behind Brunch, was it inspired by a particular event? Or was it a combination of research on the subject?

Brunch is about generational divisions and millennials eating too many avocados. It’s come up in so many discussions over the last few years. Obviously, it kind of began with that Australian billionaire who was talking about how millennials can’t afford homes because they spend all their money on avocados, which then became a meme, both online and in the real world. It just kept coming up and I really thought it was a funny thing, that people were talking about it so much but also that it does have a lot of real-world consequences and interacts with so much of the social discussion that’s happening at the moment. So really, it just came from those conversations and thinking about everything that it connects to. It was originally just a very silly idea but when I actually developed it into film, I started realising that every story that was in the news was linked to this idea of generational division. In the end it ended up being quite difficult, trying to work out what to actually put in, because it could have gone on for hours, developing a script about everything that is being discussed and how it’s linked to.

Brunch (dir. Marnik Loysen)

Can you tell me a little bit about the circumstances that led to the film’s production? Did you get much support, funding-wise?

We were trying to get funding the whole way through. Unfortunately, it never happened. I think it was made harder by not having a great deal of my own past work to show. But it was a good script and I knew we could make something good, but I couldn’t prove that in any way. Also, the producer hadn’t worked on an animated film before, which probably led to the same issue in the funders’ minds. In the end, it was just me and the producer Simon Marriott who self-funded it – which, to be honest, I probably can’t do again. It did give us some great opportunities, because although we were limited by what we could afford, we also didn’t have any other voices or parties we had to consider, so we were really able to make it the way we wanted to make it. I’ve worked with funding bodies before where the film has ended up not being quite what I wanted because there were other voices involved.

I understand that you made this pretty much in the height of the pandemic, how did you have to adapt to keep the project moving forward?

The pandemic was, in a way, a blessing at the start, because I probably wouldn’t have made the film without the furlough in the first lockdown. I know for a lot of people that wasn’t the case and they didn’t have that kind of experience. I had lots of creative energy and really wanted to make stuff, so I got to put it into lots of art. A lot of it was developing this film, writing the script, developing the character work and everything. So that was kind of great because there are not many opportunities in your life where you have the time to actually do that, to sit back and let it happen. But then when it came to the actual production it was almost a bit of a nightmare because, two days before I was going to move everything into the studio, we went into the January lockdown. So I thought it was just dead. I thought “that’s it, we’re not going to be able to make it”. In reality, it just came down to a bit more organisation. The crew were absolutely amazing, which is what made it work.

Image via Marnik Loysen

We just decided that only people who had to go into the studio would go into the studio, by avoiding people and working from home and then delivering stuff to each other when needed. Daniel Morgan, who was the cinematographer, managed to do all his work via zoom. I would share my screen with him and between the live feed from the camera, the webcam from the computer (which would allow him to see me on set), my phone on a tripod looking down at the set from above and another camera if we had one available, he would have a bunch of different angles of the set. And he could just instruct me on where to put the lights. We’d work it out together like that, which I thought was a bit disappointing, but turned out to be absolutely great. He was amazing. So yeah, I couldn’t be happier with the end result.

As with most short films, it’s a real labour of love and often members of the crew wear many hats. As writer/director how involved were you with the puppets and the animation?

Ellie Palmer, an amazing puppet maker at Aardman, helped out with the puppets. All of the designs and everything that’s sculpted was done by me. She worked from the designs and blueprints – so the moulding, casting, paintwork and the fabric work, that kind of thing. The puppets ended up looking so amazing and I’m so thankful. And the animation was all me. I would have liked to hire an animator if I could afford it but I had to do it myself.

Image via Marnik Loysen

The style of the characters is very bold and very impactful. They’re also quite unique. I don’t think I’ve seen characters that are like them anywhere. What was your process for developing the look of the film?

Thank you, I’m very glad you think that about the design. I think it’s always really important to me. Particularly with this, it was so involved with the idea and the look of it from the very beginning, it had to in essence look sort of like a hipster’s ultimate dream, but then turned up to 11, a little bit further, until it gets a bit wonky and a bit weird. So all of the colours and everything that fills the frames led to that, essentially. Like with any design work, there were just lots of iterations and workings, trying extreme things and seeing what worked and then seeing like a version further until they go too far. And making sure that everything was kind of designed from the same point of view, so it all fits together on the screen.

It kind of reminds me of a comment I saw on Twitter in which someone was complaining that all animation looked a particular way – they didn’t like this particular thin-lined, modern, very flat 2D aesthetic that is currently dominating commercials, such as Robert Strange’s Mini Cheddars – Cheddar Town series. Brunch kind of looks like a 3D version of that, but that argument of “I’m so sick of everything looking a certain way” I can’t really get behind.

The style you’re describing was literally one of the main starting points in my mind. It was just a case of working out “how do you do that in stop motion?” – because, obviously, there are limitations. You can’t just do exactly the same thing. But it all came from a bunch of designs, I did have certain shots that had a really specific looked to them. But I would keep asking myself how I can push it to its extreme, make it look like a piece of 2D artwork. Also, lots of the inspiration came from children’s illustrations and graphic novels as much as possible, really contemporary stuff. The idea is really meant to fit into that world of what’s happening in the main characters, basically.

Image via Marnik Loysen

I like animation that really comes from an illustration position. One of my favourite things in the film were the credits, which is not to say I don’t really like the rest of the film. I just haven’t seen really nice end credits for a long time, that aren’t just black or white but something different that sort of ties the whole film together.

It’s like what I was saying earlier about the idea of millennials and the generational divides. Once you start thinking about it, you can work out how to make everything apply to that. So even in the credits and bits of artwork hung up in the background, it is all connected to that. I’m lucky to have found an idea like that, that really didn’t require too much thought because it all just fit together really nicely and easily.

I find it interesting because the film also has a very art school aesthetic, which is interesting – especially as you didn’t go down that route yourself in the end. I feel like this film is what you probably would have wanted to aim for if you’d gone through with a degree. So you’ve kind of done that but also kickstarted your career as well, which is ideal really.

Yeah, totally. Literally, out of all the other things I’ve made prior to this, this is the first one that’s kind of ended up being what it was meant to be, you know and there’s some ineffable quality that I can see, that I wanted for all of my work from the start, but this is the only one that’s actually got it. So yes, it’s very gratifying to get to that point.

Image via Marnik Loysen

I think especially in the UK, it’s a very unique thing to have been able to make a film that hasn’t gone through one of the big art schools but still ended up as a really strong piece. I think that comes from you being very talented of course, but also having the contacts that you need to bring that together and just being a very affable person as well, which is how you would hope more short films were being made. But it’s a very, very tricky industry in that sense, that often everything has to come together into a perfect storm.

Yeah, I definitely agree with that. And also, you know, it’s fair to say that so much of it does come down to money, which is a really sad thing to say. But part of the reason why this film worked is that I could find great people to work on it, who I knew would be brilliant. And they all had the same perspective that I did and knew what I was going for. Obviously, I don’t know how to light things that well, and I don’t know how to do sound that well. I know the basics of those things but it’s never going to end up looking really polished, as you said, unless you can afford to pay people to do it. Unfortunately, that’s kind of the sad truth about it.

The film has basically only just been completed and is about to go into encounters. Do you have any plans for some now that it’s out there? And has it gotten too many more festivals that you are particularly excited about?

Encounters is the world premiere. So that’s the first one. It’s been sent off to lots of places I can’t talk about anything else yet. So, we’ll see. I’m really hoping that it’s going to get a good reception and get into lots of places because after you’ve put that much work in, you really want lots of people to see it. I really do believe that film festivals are the right setting to watch those kinds of films, with no idea what to expect. It just pops up. And I think that’s the way to enjoy it.

Encounters passholders can see Brunch as part of The Body Politic and Comedy 2 programmes until the end of the month
See more of the work of Marnik Loyson at marnikloyson.com

The post Interview with ‘Brunch’ director Marnik Loysen appeared first on Skwigly Animation Magazine.

Both equally poignant and witty, the film sees a young woman drawn in ink who is forced to come to terms with paper breasts that appear on her chest and lead her into increasingly unusual situations. Her new assets see her navigating a mixed-media world of anxieties concerning womanhood, female rivalries, the male gaze as well as motherhood and sickness, rendered through a striking combination of rotoscopy, 2D animation and cutout stop-mo.

Boobs is both a comic and dark journey that explores a woman’s love-hate relationship for her body and her femininity. It highlights the powerful symbolism that breasts evoke for everyone.

Having studied Film Animation at Montreal’s Concordia University, Marie would go on to direct the short film Interoculus as part of the National Film Board of Canada‘s Hothouse apprenticeship program.  She has since worked on all manner of animation projects from shorts features, spanning a variety of traditional frame by frame animation techniques including pixilation, stop-motion and 2D animation.

As well as continuing to work in animation Marie is co-director of Festival Stop Motion Montreal, whose 15th edition takes place September 10th-19th 2021. For more information visit stopmotionmontreal.com/

To stay up-to-date with our Animation One-To-Ones series be sure and subscribe to our YouTube Channel as well as the Skwigly Animation Podcasts feed from your preferred podcast provider. Stream this episode below or direct download:

TIFF festivalgoers can catch Lolos/Boobs in Short Cuts Programme 5 which screens September 14th at 8pm EDT (Canada only) and September 15th at 6pm EDT (worldwide).
Encounters passholders can see the film as part of the festival’s genre programme Late Lounge 2 until the end of the month.
For more information on this year’s Festival Stop Motion Montreal visit stopmotionmontreal.com and to see more of Marie’s work visit cargocollective.com/mariev

The post Lolos (Boobs): Interview with Marie Valade appeared first on Skwigly Animation Magazine.

As Pedro’s first fully-fledged foray into short film creation, he took it upon himself to create all aspects of this stunning, stylistic thriller. Choosing to sit the audience on the outside looking in, the film feels simultaneously voyeuristic and intimate. Like watching an insect suffer on hot concreate, we pass wordless judgement on the curiously cruel vacuum that defines the central character’s life. The film seems to comment on not only its subject but on our culture’s never-ending obsession with true crime, our desire to unpick and unravel the whys, whats and hows of the criminally insane – or the criminally forgotten. Although the film seeks to explore what drives someone to commit such heinous and unforgivable crimes, in a way we too are being asked why we want to watch it all unravel.

Beautifully rendered, with juxtaposing lighting choices, immensely-detailed environments and the unique use of almost miniaturesque perspective. The film creates a series of perfect tableaus detailing the events that lead to the undoing of this nameless but somehow familiar character. We were able to get some time with Pedro to talk about his film and the lengthy process that led to its fruitful  and ongoing festival run.

So, I understand you are predominately a visual effects animator. You’ve worked on some incredible projects. Could you start by telling me a little bit about yourself and how you came to work in animation?

I am a 3D artist generalist. I wouldn’t really call myself an animator; I did all the animation in the film but what I do professionally is environments. So, I create scenarios for CG or extensions of scenarios, the company I work for works on live-action films, so they’re more realistic. I have been doing 3D in general for over 12 years. I did a bit of everything in South America where the companies are very small. So you must be flexible because you are one of maybe five people in the team. You’re always active and that’s how I learned most of the skills, by working on small projects and adding one skill at a time very slowly. Then I decided that I should just put all of that into practice and do a film.

Was Pulsión your first film then?

Yeah. I did some tests and stuff. I wouldn’t call them like proper films. This is the first time I really tried to make a whole story, so I would say it’s my first film, yes.

Where did the idea come from?

I have a lot of projects that I never finished because I was just trying to do something. I felt the best way to really continue working on a film over time – because it takes so much when you’re doing it independently – was to work on something that I found interesting myself. At the time I was watching all these true crime documentaries and I found them very interesting and not overly explored; of course it is explored, but less on the reasons of how these characters come to exist. Like, where do these monsters, these killers come from? I started researching and found a lot of them had very abusive childhoods, or mental illness on top of a mixture of terrible things that happened to them. I found the idea of telling the story of a killer, not justifying it, just trying to see how the pieces fit together for them to do what they do, for this character to do what he does, just interesting. So that that was the main idea, to explore these things that I found interesting myself. That’s why I chose this topic.

I’ve seen this film categorised differently, both by yourself and by festivals, as a thriller and a horror. Where do you think it lies?

I would say it is more of a psychological thriller, because as far as I understand, a psychological thriller tells the story through the perspective of the character, which is a very fragmented reality. You can get confused about what’s real and what’s not, because he’s confused about those things. I don’t think it’s a horror film because it’s not focused on the act of killing or all the gore. There are elements maybe of that, but it’s not the most important part. I would say it is more about his mind than what he does.

Pulsión (Pedro Casavecchia/Atlas V)

There are also some surreal elements as well. What is it about animation, in particular CG animation, that you felt aided that kind of hybrid narrative in your film?

I chose the medium mainly because it’s what I know how to do and it’s what I have experience with. I was looking for a job in industry, so I was trying to do something where I could show off what I can do, which is why I chose animation. In the end it was very cool, because it really allows you to do whatever you want.  I think I ended up with this aesthetic of little scenarios that is not only, in my opinion, quite a different way to tell a story but also has an impact on the characters, who feel like they are trapped. Even if they are physically outside the house, they remain in this reduced space that they can’t escape from. So that’s something that you could do in live action but would be so much more complicated and expensive.  Also, I feel that the fact that it is an animation allows you to go much deeper and be much more explicit without it being too much for the spectator. If you saw this character doing all the things he does and the things that happens to them maybe it would be too much to watch. I didn’t want it to be torture, I wanted it to be something that you wanted to understand better, understand why the characters did what they did, instead of simply judging him. So, I hope it’s not much to endure. In that sense it really helps that it’s animated.

So, in that regard is that where the idea of creating these mini dioramas came from?

I was really locked on to this tilt-shift effect, that makes everything look like a miniature and because I really liked that look on images, I wanted to somehow use it on my film. Then I needed to reduce the render times as much as I could, because every image needs to be processed for a very long time and I was working on a laptop (I did all the film on my laptop at home). So I made sure of that, plus what I was saying earlier about how the character is feeling, how I wanted to convey this feeling of being trapped in their environment. All of that came together and ended up in this diorama. It also really helped me to focus all the details on to a very small space. I wanted to design something that I could do on my own because I didn’t have a team or money or anything. Then I decided it was perhaps a good idea to try and reduce as much as I could and, as a bonus, I think it gave me a different look.

Pulsión (Pedro Casavecchia/Atlas V)

As an aside, I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of the nutshell studies of unexplained deaths? They were miniature dioramas that were created by this woman (Frances Glessner Lee), which showed the layout of a death scenes. They were used in lectures about crime scene investigation. I was just wondering if you’d ever come across them because there’s somewhat a parallel with your film.

I haven’t. I wish I knew about it at the time, but no, I haven’t seen these things in particular, I’ve seen other things like it, but I didn’t know it was to train police officers. But this is really cool, I wish I knew.

Lighting is also a really vital element in the film it both sets the tone throughout but also reveals a lot of the inner conflict of the character and pushes the narrative along as well. What was your approach to the lighting?

I really wanted to use it to guide the viewer, showing the things I wanted you to see because the shots are very small, and full of things. Without very defined lighting if you miss maybe one scene, you might not get something later on, so every scene was kind of important. I wanted it to be something that really guides the eye. If I used a sun ray, for example, I’d make it go through a window so it only hits the character. I also wanted to use it to show this fragmentation of the real, make the lighting go crazier as the character goes crazier. So, in the beginning there was more natural lighting and then later the colours of the light become crazier and from more miscellaneous sources. I used it to show how the character was feeling or perceiving reality.

Towards the end the lighting is reminiscent of older Giallo films like the original Suspiria as it become more acidic and bolder.

Yeah, it becomes quite crazy and colourful. I also wanted it to look nice, so I used this as an excuse to do whatever I wanted and put lights coming from anywhere in whatever colour. There is a shot where just the fridge is open, but there’s a huge light coming out of it, lighting up the whole kitchen. In reality that would never happen, but I took some poetic license. Which is another thing about animation. You can do those things and it’s not wrong because you don’t want it to be real. You just want it to be animation.

Pulsión (Pedro Casavecchia/Atlas V)

On that point, the level of detail in the film is incredible. I understand you used photo scans from real environments sometimes and put them into the CG environment. Could you tell me how you did this? And what do you feel this brought to tangibility of the CG environments?

I used some photo scans, mostly for nature elements such trees because it’s just so hard to get a tree right. Basically, the technique of photo scanning is you go out, preferably on a cloudy day so you have a more diffuse light, as you can re-light your model and that will make it look natural. You just take a lot of pictures of the object, around it, closer and further away and then you just process that, and it creates a 3D model, with the textures printed in.

So, it’s great for natural elements, still objects such as a tree trunk. But for everything else I did hundreds of models for this film.  I feel it’s a great way to add realism when your eye keeps jumping around. You don’t really stop to analyse each part, so it really helps having a lot of things. I wanted to really use the environments to tell the story of the characters, to show how they live, to show the things they do. Then I needed all of this clutter because it’s very common for people with mental illness to live in very dirty places. I wanted to convey that they had this miserable life, a poor life and that they didn’t really care at all about the things they had. I needed all of these things to really show their lifestyle and the universe they inhabit; it was necessary to use the environments as characters as well.

Could you tell me a little bit about the production in general, what was the situation that allowed you to make the film, both financially and time-wise?

I used to wake up at 7am and work before my day job started, then after I finished I would work a bit more. There was no budget, no anything. My producers helped more to distribute the film and to put it into festivals. It just took a lot of time and brute force!

The film has picked up some awards amongst which was the Jury prize at Annecy. What was that like? And what has the festival circuit been like with the film?

It started in Annecy where I got the Special Jury mention. After that it really changed, because I finished it in order to send it to Annecy. They accepted it and then I won the award, so from that point on, everything became very easy. I started getting emails asking me to submit the film or waving entry fees in order for me to submit to lots of festivals. So that was great because I didn’t have the budget to pay for festivals anyway. It’s been in over 50 festivals and received like nine awards so far. It’s been really great. The craziest part is that I didn’t even mean to compete in festivals, I didn’t even know about the festival world, I just wanted to have a film to get a job. I got the job and I decided to finish it, then I discovered this world which I’m loving and I’m trying to do more of it now.

Have you received any feedback from people who’ve seen the film or audiences?

Not many people reach out to me. Some have come forward and told me good things, but no-one has ever told me that they didn’t like it or anything like that. In general, I feel like people that like this kind of thing appreciates it. Some people are just like, “What was that?” It can be a bit abstract, I guess, it’s not for everyone. But I’ve heard lots of good things and I’m very happy about it. I wish people reached out more but I guess people may think it is kind of weird to just drop a message to someone right?

Pulsión (Pedro Casavecchia/Atlas V)

That’s my life, contacting people to tell them I like what they do! So it isn’t weird to me, but I understand what you mean.

No, it’s not weird to me either. I guess other people may be a bit shy about it. I know people have told me they really like it. But well, only people at festivals have seen it. I will see when I release it online, I don’t know how it will be.

Are you working on another film at all?

I’m writing another thing at the moment. It’s nothing very solid, I’m just trying to keep the momentum, but soon I will be able to speak more about it. It will most likely be along similar lines. I think this is my topic, madness and mental illness. Exploring dark feelings is what I find interesting, but I don’t want to make the same film again. I will definitely change things and I hope this time I will have a team to help me, so it doesn’t take four years. For this one, it was pretty much me for 99% of the time. In the last two months, I finally got some other friends to help me with the final details. It really was a terrible idea (laughs) to make a film on your own, it’s the worst idea ever! But I hope this film will help me get some funding to make another one with a team or a group.

You can find out more about Pulsion on it’s unifrance page here and you can follow Pedro on his vimeo channel or instagram.

The post Interview with Pulsión (Drive) director Pedro Casavecchia appeared first on Skwigly Animation Magazine.

Will Anderson is a longtime favourite of ours here at Skwigly, ever since his directorial debut with his Edinburgh School of Art MA graduation film The Making of Long Bird that enjoyed an extensive festival run picking up multiple awards including both a Scottish BAFTA in 2012 for Animation and a BAFTA in 2013 for Best Animated Short Film. Since then Will has created multiple short films, idents and micro-series for various channels, sites and media outlets, often with his long term creative partner Ainslie Henderson. His previous film Have Heart is a a satirical and deeply moving film about the human condition and feeling trapped by the monotony of life, depicted through the life cycle of a GIF-animated bird plunged into an existential crisis. His new film Betty once again follows a bird-like character – a recurring visual motif in his films – called Bobby, as he searches for his butter, his Betty and ultimately a love that has apparently melted away. 

Will’s work often combines meta concepts, naturalistic dialogue, intimate human connection and wit that reflects on both the conventions of filmmaking itself as well as the creative process in general. The self-reflective and jibbing nature of his films speak to audiences, festival-goers and critics alike. His skill as an animator and designer allows him to play with colour, sound and movement to create a minimalist character based largely on contrasting colour and geometric shapes, using elements of glitch art and post-digital storytelling. The end result is a truly modern aesthetic with classic, humourist storytelling full of warmth and genuine connectivity. 

Which is quite a wordy way of saying that his new film is truly great! With the film presently screening as part of this year’s digital iteration of the Encounters Film Festival, we were incredibly lucky to get an extensive chunk of time with Will as he wandered the city on his way to work. 

We’ve spoken to you a few times in the past, but I realised that we had never asked you about how you and your longtime creative partner Ainslie Henderson met?

We actually met in college, I was the year above him, at the Edinburgh Collage of Art. He was helping me on my grad film The Making of Longbird – he helped write it. During that time, I recorded a ‘job interview’ with him, which became this little short that we made about a Glaswegian seagull trying out for this job. All the direction I gave him was to be this slightly despondent, Glaswegian, happy-go-lucky character, so the dialogue was just improvised. We both found it quite funny, so we started making little things for fun which led to other things. To be honest, it’s still happening, but with more commercial work. Since then we’ve written stuff for BBC with the Pigeons on Tour series and for CBBC which the Scottie Dogs series and then for Adult Swim. It’s kind of always the same setup, Ainslie and I  just having a conversation that’s largely improvised. But there’s something about that kind of energy of not knowing where you are, where your endpoint is, but by improvising in-between everything else it keeps it fresh and alive and exciting for us.

What do you think are the benefits of working with someone else in that kind of way?

For me personally, it’s down to individual personalities. I feel it’s so important to work with someone else, just to get their different perspective. I don’t really enjoy it on my own. Making an animation purely singularly I find quite lonely and I really appreciate laughing and having fun coming up with exciting things with someone else. I just think that that’s what it’s all about for me. Obviously, there are times where you work on your own because you have to. It can be a lonely job but trying to be as collaborative as possible helps.

Are you predominately the animator on those short commercial projects?

Yeah, almost entirely. Ainslie has a very different sort of skill set, he’s a stop-frame animator and more of a sculptor. I’m sat behind a computer doing the more technical stuff. The work that we do together, other than those digital shorts, tend to be a mix of stop-frame and digital animation. It broadens what I do and speeds up what he does, so it’s quite a nice symbiotic relationship we have.

Scottie Dogs (CBBC)

A lot of what makes those shorts work is that you two seem to have an effortless chemistry with each other that the audience feeds off.

Yeah, I hope so. It definitely requires editing but I’m glad to hear that that’s how it appears. We are very close friends so there is a sort of spark with the dialogue that would be hard to recreate if we were to get actors. We tend to put ourselves in our work separately as well, so it just kind of makes sense.

Have Heart was your last short film before Betty, was that your first project without Ainsley involved at all?

I would say so yeah, I’d certainly done stuff on my own but not really a full animated short. But we are always involved with each other’s projects in some way, but I suppose with Have Heart it was less. To be honest, it was because he was doing work on his own and I felt than, when you work with someone for a while, you can become semi-dependent on them. I suppose for him, he had just made a film called Stems, which is totally beautiful. And it was him very, very much on his own. I was probably trying to prove to myself that I could work more singularly but he did help out with by giving me some clarity when I was confused about certain things about it.

Have Heart (Dir. Will Anderson)

More like a sounding board?

Yeah exactly! Less with the writing, I guess more just there for perspective but that was the first film for me that I was like,  “Okay, I can work on my own”. It’s a pretty personal film as well but I realised that as long as you’re honest and opening up about something that’s personal to you, people will listen and hopefully enjoy it.

So Have Heart was based on a GIF at first and you did it whilst you were like commuting at the time?

Yes, as freelance animators, we tend to make things the satisfy us and post them online, hoping for appraisal or that people see and like it. I was thinking about that when I was making this thing and how just social media, in general, is this constant clamoring for attention, it’s kind of an ugly thing but also what we have to do. It’s sort of an unsettling feeling, so the GIF itself refers to that a little bit, the idea of trying and failing and trying and failing. Then having this thing that existed in the world on a timeline, I started to think about how I could develop it. I saw the rule – because I think it’s important to have very strict rules to make work and tell stories – as “I’m going to just move chronologically from here and see where we end up”. It was almost like an experiment to see how far I could take this little collection of shapes and where they would end up in the course of around a year.

During this time, I was working a lot at a design company in Glasgow and commuting a lot from Edinburgh. So, I was finding that there were two hours a day which was a good opportunity for me to work on personal projects. The more I improvised as I was going along, the more responsible I felt for the character that was starting to think and do things and make decisions. You start feeling this sense of responsibility to guide this character through to the end and see where it takes him or her and yourself. It’s like going on a journey with them, if that makes sense, which potentially sounds a little bit pretentious, but it really is genuine; it’s just another way of improvising, like acting, I guess. You find out more about yourself and you know your ideas by making it up as you go along.

I think it’s interesting because it’s more naturalistic, it’s how you think  people make films when you’re younger, that they’re made up as they go along, playing about with ideas and just having things happen.

Yeah, I love the idea that like we get to play, that’s a good way of putting it. I think everyone expects to know exactly what they’re doing and have all this insider knowledge of how we make work and how important our ideas are. I think people who make films that way are fantastic but I also think that if I was to do it that way, it would seem very stiff and unnatural. So, I look for a way that I can speak as openly and freely as possible. I just find that’s a much more honest way of working.

All of those things are very much reflected in the film and I think it’s one of those difficult things when it comes to animation as an art form, that it is a highly structured thing as often many people have to work together. However, the animation itself is an individual pursuit if you’re not working with anyone and can be more self-reflective. 

Absolutely, I completely agree. I’d say it’s also with films like Have Heart where there are no storyboards, no animatic, none of that. That would totally kill it for me, I think. It’s the same with the new film, Betty. It’s about discovering something and getting somewhere that I would never get any other way without improvising. It’s much more about exploring thoughts and feelings and emotions than knowing exactly what was happening.

Have Heart (Dir. Will Anderson)

I think that’s the strength in all of the films that you’ve been involved with. You can really feel your mental state and how important self-reflection is both as a filmmaker, but also to represent to the audience about filmmaking. Do you think this is a recurring feature of your work?

Yeah, I think so. I’m glad you realise that. I go a little mad unless I have something creative ticking over in the background. It keeps me sane because I’m just one of those people that gets very, very anxious when I’ve got nothing to do. So with the most recent film I had just come out of a relationship and something didn’t quite make sense about it all ending. I kind of needed this project on the side so I could make sense of it. I was feeling stuff that was evaporating into the atmosphere and not going anywhere, so I wanted it to go somewhere useful instead of just disappearing. So in that way I wrote this fictional thing, that’s what Betty was for.

Betty (Dir. Will Anderson)

The fictional element of it is a mixture of The Making of Longbird, the first film I made, and Have Heart, the more recent one – it’s pretty much a mix of the both of them. You follow these characters, who have their wants and needs and they’re going on a little journey, but then there’s this other element below the surface. There’s another layer, a non-fictional element, which is my voiceover almost like a director’s commentary but it can be turned on at any point, mixing those fictional and non-fictional elements. I don’t want to give away too much, but I was interested in how that gets disrupted and how those things overlap, because you come with expectations too. You’re sitting down and watching a film, then suddenly everything turns and you hear this booming voice from whoever, the director or producer, and there’s a completely other set of expectations for what experience you’re going to go through with that. I was interested in that because, for me, filmmaking is a very personal thing so it makes sense that I can just talk over and speak to people directly.

Have Heart had that element of being quite reflective, but with Betty I was getting worried that I was getting too ‘film clever’ about this. I started to think maybe I should go back a step and just continue talking about what it is and just admit what I was doing and not dress it up.

Your previous films have a meta feeling with self-aware characters and playing with the audience’s perception but with, as you said, a more truthful reveal. However, in Betty, the character isn’t aware of you as they have been in previous films?

Yeah, that’s true as well. I’m realising that now, they are separate.

If you think of your three films The Making of Longbird, Have Heart and now Betty, in Longbird the character is almost bullying you, in Have Heart you’re almost bullying the character and now in Betty Bobby exists more as a way for you to explore your feelings?

Yeah, you’re absolutely right. Again, some of this is working on a subconscious level. I don’t break down absolutely every decision that’s made, obviously, but lots of them are. So you’re totally right because I’ve voiced the character as well, but he is a separate being. It’s funny because it’s almost like a relationship where you only hear from one point of view. Bobby’s voice, just this American guy which is my voice pitch-shifted, was part of the real relationship in the real world. We gave our egos these American voices and if we got pissed off at each other, we could be these Americans. We wouldn’t be annoyed at the real us, we’d be annoyed at these fictional versions of us. The character Bobby in the film is that guy. He’s not me. He’s this American, same with Betty. So they’re a version of this other version of us.

It’s hard for me to talk about because, having some experience of making films over the last few years and playing at festivals, I feel like it takes a little while for me to know exactly how to talk about a film because I can gauge people’s reactions at festivals or in reviews and then start to get ready to talk about the film. At this point right now it’s a really strange, vulnerable time because I haven’t seen enough reactions to it. For me, I just needed to do it to process a thing that was happening in my life, it felt kind of pathetic. It’s quite a pathetic thing feeling heartbroken over someone, everyone will have felt that in some way but I needed to put it somewhere.

‘Pathetic’ strikes me as an aggressive word to use on yourself, especially for something that is both very human and also something that everyone feels at some point.

Yeah, I think it’s just because I’m referring to myself. I don’t really like showing weakness, I don’t want to be like a victim or anything like that. So I’m careful about that and with a thing like heartbreak, I realised my gut reaction is to say someone wrote a song about it and there are loads of them then there’s a part of me that feels a little uneasy. For myself, I wonder if it’s really worth making a film about it and I don’t know if I buy into it, but actually it’s a pretty universal thing. It’s like falling in love, everyone’s done that – or most people have, or think they have. It was the same with Have Heart, everyone feels stuck in a rut at some point. Everyone has an existential crisis, and Longbird is about struggling with your ideas and feeling like they’re stupid. They’re all thematically linked. They’re quite human.

Betty (Dir. Will Anderson)

In the end I genuinely felt that it helped. There’s something about making animation that, although it is obviously my job and I do enjoy being a creative doing creative stuff, there is something just fundamentally quite stiff and false about it when you say you’re going to tell a love story in this medium. It’s challenging, I would struggle to do it with a script and getting actors in. If it was funded and there was a crew that were waiting for me to decide how I’m feeling that day it wouldn’t really work.

So, do you feel like it’s almost more like a diary?

Yeah, it’s like opening your sketchbook I think – and it’s terrifying opening your sketchbook and letting someone just peruse through and read it and make it public. I suppose it’s my job to be the author of it and direct the viewer and that’s why in these films – Longbird, Have Heart and Betty – it’s my job to clean up all the mess around and make it as tight and focused as possible. So, someone I don’t know can look at it and hopefully be entertained by it.

Something that I’ve noticed, probably since Have Heart, the MTV ident and the Best Friend series is that there’s a visual style change that incorporates a form of glitch art and post-digital art filmmaking…

Yeah, I think it’s a way of doing new things. So, with Adult Swim we were doing something a lot faster. When it’s a new piece of work you rewrite and build it in a way that’s faster which is often to do with the brief, but with the speed came more energy. With the MTV ident, specifically, it’s a 15 second sequence with no dialogue and, as you know, we do dialogue all the time. We cut that out so there are loads of characters at this rave which has this sort of hysteria about it. It created this chaotic energy which I’d been wanting to experiment with for a while, this kind of live puppeteering idea, but had never had an excuse or the right thing to try it out.

This was perfect because I could do all the animation in basically a day. It requires rigging and setting things up, but it was a great opportunity for me to just try something out and for it to have an audience. So that’s why it looks the way it does. Everything’s perhaps a little rougher with the arms, and all the joints don’t quite meet but that fed into the idea and it’s important that visuals and themes are somehow linked to the form of the medium that you use. That always just makes sense to me, like with Long Bird he is a silhouette because he’s been cut out, and with Have Heart he’s just a collection of shapes that have been thrown together that are constantly falling apart. In Betty, Bobby is a little love bird who’s just created to keep a relationship together. The form is always somewhat linked to the theme of whatever is being talked about.

Yeah, of course,  it’s a good way of working. Glitch Art is both a visual thing and a narrative form, which has become more prevalent in filmmaking since films like Ugly which broke the rigging and used that meta concept to represent how audiences are becoming a lot more intelligent to what the process of making these things are.

Yeah, absolutely. I suppose with Ends you don’t know if they’re going to die or come back, so the glitching made sense by tying it in somehow to the idea. But also you’re completely right, there is a visual language that exists that people are aware that animation is made, created and anguished over. People understand there’s a tension between what they’re seeing as being this completely fabricated thing and what’s real about it and I like that tension with dialogue. What we tried to do is naturalistic which is at odds with what animation is. It’s all about that tension. I think.

I think what’s quite interesting about that with Betty as well, is that you’re not really talking at the character and Bobby is talking to Betty, but Betty doesn’t speak. ever.

I thought she was a really important character in the beginning when I was improvising. Then I realised that in fact, it’s really about her not being there. At the start of any film, there’s this normality, then there’s usually some kind of disruption and then you go on a journey to try and fix that thing that broke the normality. Then at the end you get to a place that hopefully shows a perspective you hadn’t seen before. That’s perhaps better or worse or different from where we were, that’s what that journey is for me. I don’t know where it’s going to end but it’s going to end somewhere and I’m just yearning to find out what it will be.

In Have Heart I didn’t know the ending until three-quarters of the way through making it, but with Betty it was even closer to the end; where it stops was me making a call saying “This is okay, this is satisfying for me”. God knows if it is for anyone else! But it definitely was a little eureka moment, where you go “That’s totally what I was looking for and it was staring me in the face”. I’m actively trying to do it with as little as possible as well, I like that there’s clarity and simple bold shapes, geometry and minimal dialogue with Betty, as with Have Heart, the simpler it is, the more beautiful I find it. There’s a symbolic moment where he keeps losing his butter and it’s just silly, it keeps turning off and on and he’s tied to the fridge and that becomes representative of him trying to look for signs he can’t quite grasp, which is a metaphor for his relationship. I suppose that there’s some kind of method in telling the story, something that’s really hard to talk about – “How do I get over someone? How do I find love?” But I think in the film, it makes sense, this symbol of him trying to try to hold on to something.

You can see more of Will Anderson’s work at wanderson.co.uk
Learn more about the making of Betty in episode 2 (season 4) of Intimate Animation (stream below or direct download)

The post In conversation with Will Anderson about his new film ‘Betty’ appeared first on Skwigly Animation Magazine.

The concept is simple. After a short introduction we find a film and press play, then when the film is over the podcast is over so you can listen as an audio commentary or just as a regular podcast. You can join in too by letting us know your thoughts on the film for us to read out on the podcast and by suggesting other films for us to cover in future editions!

In this inaugural episode of the Skwigly Animation Film Club, Ben and Steve press play on Don Hertzfeldt‘s 2013 feature It’s Such a Beautiful Day. The festival favourite combines two of the director’s short films Everything will be Okay and I’m so Proud of You with a third instalment to tell the tale of Bill, a man who takes a cerebral voyage in the face of death as he tackles a debilitating disease. Packed with Hertzfeldtian dry wit and black humour the film is as visually arresting as it is emotionally captivating which is an incredible achievement for a film populated by stick figures, but through perfect timing and a strong script Hertzfeldt delivers one of the most impressive independent feature films to grace the screen. The film was recently made available to watch for free by the director so there’s no better time to give the film a gander.

It’s not really a film club if we don’t have members so you’re all invited to get involved by sharing your thoughts on the film. Whether you’re watching the film with the podcast as audio commentary or not, let us know your mini review of the film and we will read them out on the next podcast. You can email them in to the team at podcast{at}skwigly.co.uk or tweet Skwigly on Twitter using the hashtag #skwiglyfilmclub. We look forward to reading out your thoughts on the next episode!

In the meanwhile you can listen to the first episode of the Skwigly Animation Film Club below or direct download here.

The post Introducing the Skwigly Animation Film Club podcast appeared first on Skwigly Animation Magazine.

Another notable pattern in Shaw’s work is his enjoyment  of the macabre and the spooky – none more so than his most recent film You Died!, a novel take on the classic information films of the 50s and 60s, in which we as the viewers are informed of our recent departure from the mortal realm and are in fact deceased. We had the chance to have a chat with Sam before his upcoming screening as part of the Skwigly Screening at this year’s Manchester Animation Festival.

You Died! (Dir. Sam Shaw)

What first drew you to animation?

Growing up with old dusty videos of cartoons like Danger Mouse, The Herbs and Trap Door sort of kicked my interest off. Me and my little brother used  to make little Lego animations using an old video camera by pressing record and stop super quickly for each movement when we were young, and I just kept that up until someone paid me. 

What was the idea behind the film You Died! and what prompted you to make it?

I worked with a voice over artist called Guy Harris for a job a while back and he came out with this incredible 1950s PSA voice, The client didn’t go for it at the time, but I kept thinking of excuses to use him for something and that’s how the idea for my film came about. I wanted to make a short which didn’t have a real narrative structure, and 50s information film worked perfectly for that… Also dead things are cool.

What was the workflow/process of making this film?

There wasn’t one. I was re-writing the ending while I was in full swing animating it. I’m useless without a producer. 

How did you make time to make the film around your day job?

I tried to steal an hour at the end of the day when I could, but I ended up using a bit of holiday time and locking myself in my room until it was done. 

You often use a ‘cartoon modern’ style in your work, what attracted you to this way of working and why did you choose it for this film?

The cartoon modern thing was a nice coincidence to begin with. My drawings always looked a bit like it but I didn’t know it was this whole big thing until someone at uni made me read Cartoon Modern by Amid Amidi and everything about it was amazing. I loved the almost creepy positivity the style emitted and the fact it was born out of a workers’ rebellion at Disney made me love it even more. This film was a deliberate homage to animations from that era in a way the rest of my stuff usually isn’t. 

Since your graduation film, which took place in a haunted B&B, your work often has a spooky vibe – why you think the macabre has such a powerful hold over you and your work?

My Mum is a big scary vicar and anything spooky was banned from my house growing up, so the second I got out of there everything became an excuse to draw pumpkins! To this day I’m still too scared of Jesus to ever include the actual devil in my work. 

Your duck character from Dead & Breakfast still lives in various mini shorts and gifs, can you tell me a little about this character and what he represents to you? 

He’s just a guy I’ve got to know quite well. A lot of my job is working on animations aimed squarely at adults so I use him as a bit of a pallet cleanser. Also, his beak is really hard to animate so it feels like a bit of a work out too. 

You Died played at Encounters recently which I know you had it in mind during production, how did you find the festival and what others are you hoping for or looking forward to?

It was sort of a dream come true. I’m not a cool, collected person when it comes to getting into any of the big festivals, but to get into one that’s been such a part of my animation make up in Bristol means a lot. It’s also the only film festival I’ve been to that brews a beer especially, and I can’t stress how much that impressed me. Other festivals that seem to be doing it right are Pictoplasma, Cardiff Animation Festival and MAF.

You’ve taken part in quite a few Anijams with Encounters as well, what do you enjoy about the challenge of making in such a short time scale?

Anijam is a super unique experience. Its fun to see how far you push yourself to meet the deadline and you learn a lot about how to cut corners every time. But the best thing about it is the community that forms around it online. I still talk to people from around the UK because we made competing Anijam films. 

You’re based in Bristol, how do you feel about the city and its animation scene?

The city is gorgeous and I’ve not met a single Bristol animator that isn’t lovely. It’s the most welcoming animation scene in the UK and it feels like most studios really care about giving new talent a chance. I’d like to see the social side of it function as more of an opportunity to collaborate with people in the future, but for now, there no better people to have a beer and talk keyframes with. 

Are there other styles you’d like to work in or would like to try in your next film? 

I’m quite lucky that my job at Sun & Moon means I have to experiment with a whole bunch of different styles to remain employed. So the way I draw in my spare time already feels like a bit of a holiday. I’d love to make a little stop motion film someday though.

Do you have any plans to make another film soon? 

It’s my dream to make a breakfast cereal advert and none of the big brands have asked me to yet. So I think I’m going to have to make my own soon.

You Died screens today as part of our Skwigly Screening at the Manchester Animation Festival, 5pm at HOME.
See more of the work of Sam Shaw at vimeo.com/samshawdraws

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Featuring striking and impressive design work and a darkly witty edge to its storytelling, Revenge Story has screened at events such as Pictoplasma and Spark Animation Festival as well as our own upcoming Skwigly Screening at the Manchester Animation Festival. We spoke with Erin about her work so far, the challenges of taking on an independent short and her hopes for the future.

Erin Kim

Can you tell us a bit about your background and early artistic interests that ultimately led to your work as an animator?

I was born in Seoul, South Korea, and then I immigrated to Canada when I was 11. Growing up, I read Japanese manga and watched anime a lot. When I wasn’t fluent in English, I spent so much time by myself drawing and watching anime, because I couldn’t fit into the new environment. I did watch western animated films and TV shows as a kid but it was only during my late teen years that I finally started appreciating Disney films. Now as a professional, I realise that my core humour and visual style comes from the old manga and anime I was exposed to, but I utilise more western principles when it comes to creating a film.

What drew you towards studying at CalArts, and can you talk a bit about the work you produced during your time there?

I was drawing all the time since I was a little kid, and it was clear to me that I was going to become an artist. Both of my parents encouraged me to pursue my artistic dreams. I didn’t fully understand how big of a deal it was to go to CalArts until I got accepted. In fact, I didn’t know that I had to make a film every year.

My first year film was called Onion, and it was about a stinky onion who can’t find any vegetable friends. At the end, the onion finds other stinky veggies, and they have a pan frying party. I still like the story. For my second year, I made a film called Bugged, and it was a typical “chase film”. I met the deadline but the film itself was so boring and unsatisfying.

During my 3rd year, I made a film called Ear Fear. It was about a character who switches his animal ears to fit into the environment he is in, but ultimately accepts himself, for his love and for his own good. The film definitely reflects my personal experiences that I was going through.

My 4th year film cycles was about a young cyclist who was going through a family problem. I tried to focus on little personal goals which were telling a personal story, and having dialogues. It was definitely challenging. Each year I tried to avoid making the same mistake that I made in the previous year.
Overall, making four films made me as a mentally strong artist, and I’m glad that I tried something new every year. As stressful as it was, I loved making short films, and that’s why I still make personal short films.

Despite dubious criticisms (e.g. prevalence of ‘the CalArts style’ as a derisory term), CalArts’ student output spans an enormously diverse range of artistic approaches. From your perspective as a recent graduate did you find that the school encourages students to pursue an individual artistic direction?

Yes, I understand what the “CalArts style” looks like. But I think that you see that style often because it’s a simple industry standard style, especially for TV shows. The simplified, round, and quick to draw style is just more economical for production.
However, I felt that the school definitely taught a specific way of storytelling. Story classes felt very formulaic. If you tried something different or a little abstract, not that many people understood the value of experimenting. That being said, I do appreciate the story classes teaching me how to build a story. In fact, CalArts supports students when it comes to finding a job at a studio, and teaching the industry knowledge. And maybe an individual artistic direction unfortunately is not as important if someone’s goal is to find a job at a studio, because studios want to see specific things. This is a loaded question, haha.

Since graduating is your hope to primarily direct or are their other areas that hold appeal?

It took me a long time to realise that I like storyboarding and writing. For a long time I was more of a “generalist” who did everything. But now I want to focus on storytelling, and ideally I would like to have my own TV Show.

What prompted you to make Revenge Story? Was it made alongside or between jobs?

Revenge Story is also inspired by my personal experiences. It’s about moving on from a life event, because dwelling on the past only hurts you even more. Also, I just love revenge as a concept.
I made the film alongside my day job. I had a crazy schedule of waking up at 6:30am, and working for a few hours before the day job. After the day job ended, I stayed at work longer to continue working on my film. It took me about a year and a half to complete everything, and it was tiring and painful.

Visually it stands apart from a lot of your prior work in the starkness of the design style and lack of colours. Can you discuss how you developed this style and why you wanted to make something so distinct?

Each film needs its own look! I was heavily influenced a manga series called Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei, and the series had such clear silhouettes and minimal design choices. I love flat and graphic designs. And to be honest, I don’t think I understand colour that well so I just wanted to avoid any elaborate colours or lighting. I know my limits now so it’s about showing what I’m the best at, while hiding my weaknesses.

I’m always interested in how artists overcome the practical realities of independent animation and how those vary depending on a multitude of factors – location, resources, time etc. Can you talk a bit about the overall production process and how you were able to bring the film together (and what sort of challenges there may have been along the way)?

The struggle is real. I storyboarded, designed, animated, and composited everything by myself. The one woman show was something that I was used to, since I made films at CalArts. But hiring a professional sound designer and composer was a new experience. My composer also recommended me to go for hiring an orchestra, so we recorded the score at Capitol Records. Funding everything by myself was hard, but at the same time I didn’t want to ask for free labour from my collaborators.

Revenge Story (Dir. Erin Kim)

While Revenge Story is ostensibly a comedic, slapstick work it did seem to me to carry with it a simple but important message about the dangers of obsessing over setbacks rather than working through them. Was the story prompted by anything in particular?

I’ve watched many animated films where things go wrong, but in the end everything is magically solved. I have had issues with stories like that. Most of the time I couldn’t fully relate to those films because, often some things cannot be reversed or fixed. We regret and obsess over things that happened in the past. In fact, it takes years to get over a bad experience. I wanted Revenge Story to be about the struggles after what one has gone through, and eventually coming to a conclusion of moving on, but not undoing the damage that has been done.

You’re also very active in online illustration and webcomics – does this work draw on the same creative impulses or are they a separate beast from your moving image work?

The birth of my webcomics are kind of related to Revenge Story. When I started animating Revenge Story, I wanted to start promoting my work online more. But it felt like the film production was progressing very slowly and I had nothing to share. So I started making 1 or 2 panel comics talking about the mental struggles I was going through at the time. The initial intent of my art Instagram was to create more daily contents that are easy to produce. Now it has become its own thing and my comics take such a long time to make, ha.

 

View this post on Instagram

 

Do you see yourself expanding on the webcomic work through animation in the future?

I’m trying to turn my Zero Empathy Boi series into a TV show. First I would like to make some short clips with puppet models!

By and large your work tends to tackle themes of internal conflicts and anxieties, something animation can serve as a powerful communication tool for. What sort of responses have you gotten from your films/art, and are these themes you plan on continuing to explore?

I’m very thankful for the people who leave a long comment reacting to my films/comics saying how much they related to my story. The personal stories I hear back from the audience is one of the reasons I make my art, they are my emotional support. It’s very fascinating to me that people with completely different backgrounds somehow find my work, and they feel like my work speaks for them.
I love internal conflicts because I have so many of them. Maybe it’s obvious that I’m interested in psychology. I started reading Carl Jung books, and the idea of “unconscious” intrigues me a lot. The concept of the “undiscovered part of you” seems like a thought provoking theme to explore, since everyone is somewhat unaware of themselves in certain areas.

Is there anything you’re working on now that you can tell us about?

I’m currently working on my webcomic series Zero Empathy Boi. It’s about a boy with no empathy, who wants to be liked by everyone. I’m creating a zine style comics, but also coming up with TV show episode ideas for a pitch. It’s still at an early development stage, but I’m very excited!

Revenge screens this Wednesday November 13th as part of our Skwigly Screening at the Manchester Animation Festival, 5pm at HOME.
See more of the work of Erin Kim at erinkimart.tumblr.com

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Beginning without any script, storyboard or design from the outset, save for a curious figure pushing a large box against an empty backdrop, M52 would eventually craft an elaborate and increasingly ambitious sci-fi world. The final film, which boasts consistently appealing design, sophisticated animation principles and a captivating score by Alexander Hohaus, would go on to screen at major international festivals including Encounters, ITFS Stuttgart and Pictoplasma.

With recent UK screenings including Cardiff Animation Nights and ahead of our upcoming Skwigly Screening at the Manchester Animation Festival we reached out to Yves to learn more about his work, background and committing to such a unique labour of love.

What initially started you on the path to art and animation?

I originally wanted to study graphic design, but a friend of mine told me about an animation school and I liked the idea. I immediately fell in love with this art form.

As well as animation you also have a propensity toward street art – what drew you to this as a form of creative expression?

My older brother was making graffiti and it influenced me to give it a try. I started making street art when I entered high school and it became a first step in learning rules of graphic design and dynamic composition. Now that I’m working most of the time on a computer in an office, going out to paint and interact with the environment feels like a great way to break the routine and challenge myself on other creative levels.

Alongside your own art you’ve produced animation work for a variety of commissions including games and music videos. Are there any professional projects you’re most proud of?

The game projects I worked on were all very formative in term of learning about work pipelines, project management and team building. But the last two music videos I recently made, as well as my short film M52, are projects I am especially proud of since they allowed me to develop my own creative identity and brought me a step further in my creative journey. It was also the first time I produced films of this size all by myself over a short period of time.

You’re presently based in Germany, what prompted the move from Montreal?

I originally though about moving to Europe after going to a festival called Supertoon in Croatia where I met plenty of kind and talented artists. This glimpse of the European animation culture was very eye-opening. About a year later, I met my girlfriend and I decided to move back with her to the city where she lived in Germany. It was a beautiful coincidence.

How does living in Germany as a creative artist compare? Are there any significant differences to how the arts are regarded in terms of government/community from your perspective?

The long years and tradition of maintaining the culture of art in Germany and Europe have made it a very important aspect of life. It’s a great feeling to have this mentality to support you as an artist. I also feel there is more investment in art overall then in Quebec and Canada. At least in the field of film and animation.

What led to you starting M52 as an improvisational project, and did you plan from the outset to eventually have it be a 10-minute film?

I first made a creative challenge in 2015 about 365 days of art. Then I gave myself a break and wanted to try the experience again but with animation this time. After seeing the ”Mystical Mondays” of Greg Gunn and the ”30 Days of Animation” from Geoff King, I knew this next challenge would take the form of an improvised animated project. I also wanted to make a new short film with less constraint and a more intuitive workflow. Every scene where made without time restriction. As long as the timing felt right and I could manage to do it in a week, I didn’t mind. I never thought this challenge would end as a 10 minutes of animation!

M52 early visual development (courtesy of Yves Paradis)

Was it difficult to maintain that level of weekly commitment once you had started, or did time available ultimately determine where and how the story progressed?

It wasn’t difficult to maintain the commitment since the project highly motivated me. Time definitely had a big impact on how the story progress. Especially at the beginning since I had no idea of where the story would go. A key point was to choose simple narrative and visual solution to do what I had in mind for the animation of the week.

Were there any major challenges or sacrifices that committing to the project entailed?

Time management was of course a big challenge. Particularly when I had a more busy week of freelancing work or was abroad for personal or work purpose. Shorter nights of sleep inevitably happened from time to time. Although, in general I didn’t wanted to cut on the quality of the animation or on the time I spent with my friends and family. So I gave myself the boundary to complete this challenge with the flexibility to delay a week of animation to the next one when I couldn’t make it. I would therefore have to do double the work the following week. As long as I could finish the year with 52 sequences of animation, I was okay to sacrifice some of the commitment of releasing an animation per week in order to be proud of what I’m creating. In the end, the intention of this challenge was for me to create more often on a regular basis and explore new creative horizons.

M52 main character designs (courtesy of Yves Paradis)

Did developing the story and visuals in increments on a week-by-week basis make the process easier or did that level of creative restraint prove challenging in itself?

For the visual, it made it easy and gave me a very natural workflow. As I started with minimalist design, I ended up developing the graphic bible of the film by increments based on the needs of the narrative. This was a flexible pipeline that allowed me to play with the visual identity of the film’s universe until the end. It was also more fun than a typical production where almost all the creative decisions are taken at the beginning. Regarding the story, the first 3 months were completely improvised and this process was surprisingly convenient. It’s very different to work this way. You only have to think about what will happen next based on what happened before. After that period, the story actually unfolded quickly and I knew roughly where it would go. I still forced myself to not plan any weeks in advance beside a one liner for each block of the remaining story.

Despite being made chronologically over such an extended time period the overall design and tone of the film maintains a uniform style throughout. Did you have anything set in place to ensure this consistency?

The minimalist geometric design and colour palette were the main rules I chose from the beginning. But I was really pleased by the general unity of the film when it was completed, especially that the beginning and the end still fit well together.

The colour palette and lighting approaches are incredibly effective. Did you have a specific process or influences when it came to developing these?

Working with less colour forces you to make the best out of it and find alternatives for expressing the feelings you want to convey. When it comes to giving emotion or tension in a scene for example, this constraint can actually become an advantage by having stronger contrast in the general ambiance.

M52 (Dir. Yves Paradis)

On reflection what would you say are the main positives you’ve taken away from the experience of making M52?

To see that it’s possible to be very efficient and creative when you give yourself the right structure to do it. Also that going out of your comfort zone and experimenting with new ways of working can push you much further in your artistic development.

Having made other short films in the past was the approach you took with M52 preferable?

I don’t think this approach of working with a lot of unknowns is suitable for every project, although I would definitely like to try this method again on another film. What stands out is that being more intuitive and flexible in the early development of a short film can be very beneficial for the whole project.

Would you take on this type of project again?

Without a doubt!

M52 story/design concepts (courtesy of Yves Paradis)

Were there any particular influences (literary/cinematic/other) on the story itself?

As I started with the cube as a central element, the film Cube by Vincenzo Natali indirectly had some influence later on when I developed the story. But I was mostly driven by the themes of dystopian future and the disconnection between human and nature in the development of modern civilisation. Also, the work of Isaac Asimov and other science fiction author strongly forged my imagination when I was a kid.

Is there anything that you’re working on since/now that you can discuss?

I am currently working on a script and concept for a new short film. This time made with a more typical pre-production pipeline. The subject is about communication and language.

M52 screens next week as part of our Skwigly Screening at the Manchester Animation Festival, 5pm 13/11 at HOME. See more of the work of Yves Paradis at yvesparadis.co

The post Q&A with Yves Paradis (M52) appeared first on Skwigly Animation Magazine.

Along with co-founder Daisuke ‘Dice’ Tsutsumi, a fellow Art Director at Pixar Animation Studios where the pair worked on such projects as Monsters University, Toy Story 3, Ratatouille and WALL·E between them, Robert would make his mark on the animation industry with the visually stunning independent short film The Dam Keeper, an immediate festival hit and audience favourite that would go on to receive an Oscar nomination.

Following up on the pair’s prior podcast appearance as well as their valuable contributions to the Independent Animation book, in this episode we discuss the work the studio has been up to since Robert and Dice left Pixar to commit to Tonko House full-time. Subsequent projects have included the episodic series Pig: The Dam Keeper Poems, the short film Moom, Schoolism and The Dam Keeper Education Project. We also learn about the stalling of The Dam Keeper feature film, their recently unveiled upcoming projects Oni and Sleepy Pines, what’s on offer at their current exhibition in Seoul and the recent expansion of The Dam Keeper universe into a graphic novel series that has concluded this month with the release of the third and final installment.

Stream below or download here.

For more on the work of Robert Kondo and Dice Tsutsumi visit tonkohouse.com

The post Podcast interview with Robert Kondo (Tonko House) appeared first on Skwigly Animation Magazine.

A friend of Skwigly and significant contributor to the book on which this podcast series is based, Rosto’s enthusiasm and passion for his work is clearly demonstrated by the sheer volume of his output, from its humble beginnings in 1998 as the partially-animated Flash webcomic Mind My Gap to the grandiose spectacle of his epic, four-part Thee Wreckers Tetralogy, which concluded last year with its final entry Reruns following No Place Like Home (2009), Lonely Bones (2013) and Splintertime (2015).

With the first two films in the tetralogy serving primarily to conclude the metaphysical odyssey of Mind My Gap, the latter two focus more on the continuing adventures of Thee Wreckers, a spectral incarnation of Rosto’s one-time real-life band The Wreckers. Produced by frequent collaborator Nicolas Schmerkin of Autour de Minuit, Reruns takes a turn for the semi-autobiographical in featuring various projected states of Rosto’s own alter ego Virgil existing in an ethereal dream limbo of memory, artfully constructed and replicated from the director’s own existing home video footage.

Originally conducted for a piece in Marimo magazine, we’re very grateful to have the opportunity to present our final interview with Rosto shortly after the release of Reruns and its major win at the prestigious Clermont-Ferrand International Short Film Festival (direct download link here).

Rosto also featured previously as our guest in episode 48 of the Skwigly Animation Podcast, during the festival run of the tetralogy’s preceding entry Splintertime:

For more on the work and legacy of Rosto visit rostoad.com

The post Podcast: Remembering Rosto (‘Reruns’) appeared first on Skwigly Animation Magazine.

My Love Affair With Marriage tells the story of young Zelma’s developing understanding of her place in society as a woman by mimicking other girls she perceives to be perfect themselves, unaware of the damage this will cause to her relationships later in life. Along the way she is accompanied by four singing Mythology Sirens who put pressure on her to conform to society’s expectations.

In early May director/writer Signe Baumane and producing partner Sturgis Warner will present a work-in-progress presentation of the project at the Stuttgart International Festival of Animated Film, as well as two screenings of a never-before-seen excerpt titled Mother’s Song.

When we were editing footage, one of the scenes – Sc. 026 – leapt out at us as a self-sufficient short film, almost a music video, so we turned it into Mother’s Song and submitted to a few festivals. Stuttgart was the first to accept it. We hope more festivals will invite it, too.

-Signe Baumane

The two screenings are scheduled for Friday, May 3rd at 8 PM and Saturday, May 4th at 10 AM, with the WIP presentation taking place on the 4th at 3pm.

Later in the month Signe will be in Trollhättan, Sweden to give the keynote speech From Sex to Madness to Marriage: the Journey of an Independent Animator at the Trollywood Animation Festival on Friday, May 10th.

Fans are able to follow the film’s website and Facebook Page for future updates and donate to keep the studio fully operational. You can learn more about the genesis of My Love Affair With Marriage in episode 2.1 of our podcast series Intimate Animation (stream below or download here)

The post Signe Baumane to present ‘My Love Affair With Marriage’ WIP at ITFS Stuttgart appeared first on Skwigly Animation Magazine.

Once again, we’ll visit the surreal landscapes inhabited by Cegavske’s puppet creations. Her artistic lens is perhaps unique in its ability to magnify the lives of small creatures, playing out the extreme emotions of animals which live in sheltered dwellings. In Blood Tea, we met with the oak-dwellers, who live beneath the hollowed-out trunk of an oak tree. These animals have beaks yet exert a mammalian tenderness. Their peaceful existence is thrown into disarray when the object of their affection (a doll) is stolen and they must embark on a quest to reclaim it.

Blood Tea and Red String (Dir. Christiane Cegavske) [Source]

Cegavske’s decision to abstain from dialogue and speech in her work, permits the opening up of interpretation. Her message needn’t be translated to enter film festivals, for there is something buried (in the sand) that will take root intuitively. Her films are instead formed from a language of personal mythos, as are her paintings and poetry. Cegavske distils inspiration into an exclusive colour palette and a creative process, such as hers, is not unlike alchemy. Red, Black and White: these are the essences which formulate her miniature tales. We interviewed Christiane Cegavske to discuss the progress of her next feature and to get an insight into her practice.

Blood Tea and Red String (Dir. Christiane Cegavske) [Source]

I think my audiences find the characters compelling. The tactile intimacy in the way the characters are filmed where the textures of the fur and clothing emphasise their materiality and dimensionality, making them seem entirely real even though they are impossible creatures. Despite the absence of dialogue, their gestures and communications are readable and their emotional states relatable so they seem like real, living beings. The overall aesthetic, the colour palette, the strangeness of the story and the immersive environment, at once familiar and foreign, also seem to be a draw.

Your creative process has changed quite a bit since the completion of Blood Tea and Red String. During the production of Seed in the Sand, you’ve employed a few interns along the way. Fans of your work can now also follow the film’s development online as you post pictures and videos. As an artist, how do you feel your work is affected by this kind of exposure? Have you enjoyed opening up the artistic process to other people?

I like to show work in progress. Feedback and appreciation help me to persevere over this long-term project. I think my creative process has remained much the same, I now have a greater platform to share it. I am more mindful of documenting progress in ways I didn’t or couldn’t while working on Blood Tea and Red String. I am much more aware of cinematic editing techniques, meaningful juxtapositions, and intentional symbolism now, though, I still allow much of the narrative to flow along in dream-logic fashion just as it comes to me.

Production Still from Seed in the Sand [Source]

I haven’t set out to give a specific lesson, but you can see the consequences of the actions of the characters, both positive and negative. That can be instructive. In Blood Tea and Red String, everyone loses that which they were initially striving for. The protagonists and one of the antagonists evolve in their quest to reclaim the doll. As soon as the Oak Dwellers see the bird girl, fragile and alive, their purpose becomes rescue. When the one white mouse sees the bird girl born out of the doll, his epiphany brings transformation and a new goal. Two of the mice never shift their focus and end up with the object of their desire, but it is broken. I avoid creating characters who embody absolute evil. The antagonist’s selfish deeds can be considered bad from the protagonist view, but could be interpreted as justifiable by them. Both sides engage in myopic and self-serving behaviour as well as selfless acts.

As any stop-motion animator will know, the filmmaking process requires ceaseless dedication, hard work and attention to detail. This is perhaps especially true for you, as you work primarily alone upon all facets of filmmaking. The final product must therefore be a huge personal accomplishment. How do you manage to remain motivated when dates of completion are set so far into the future?

I break up the work into manageable pieces in a long-term production schedule with solid goals dispersed along the way. Finish a puppet, build a set, complete a scene; each is a small triumph. Opportunities to show my work in progress are also very rewarding and motivational. When my audience gives me a positive response and expresses a desire to see more, it spurs me on.

You have already released some astonishing clips of sand in tidal motion. What was your experience of animating with sand prior to the decision to include it in your film? It must have been extraordinarily challenging to build your wave generator!

I had very little experience in sand animation before this scene. The design for the wave generator came to me in a flash of inspiration and it was very exciting to build it. I had two interns working with me at the time who were extremely helpful. The generator design was meant to create the waves in the open sand sea, but the scene that I have used it for so far was at the shore where waves had to break on the rocks. Though it did help somewhat with the rhythm of the waves, a great deal of hand animation had to be done.

Without giving too much away, how will Seed in the Sand extend upon the imagined world of your first feature? Is it true you have envisioned a trilogy of films?

I am backing off from considering these as being a trilogy, but there is a flow from one to the next in the live action portions. There is an element that transforms from beginning to end that is passed to the next film. In Blood Tea and Red String an egg is sent into the animated world and returns to the live action world as a large golden gem. It is that gem that is sent into the animated world of Seed in the Sand by the live action masked woman and it will be transmuted, returning to the live action world as something new at the end that will be useful in the beginning of the third film.

The surreal work of Jan Svankmajer, in particular his film Alice, opened up the world of animation to you. Are there any animators or artists you have recently discovered?

Some artists besides the ever fascinating Jan Svankmajer and Leonora Carrington that interest me lately are Chiharu Shiota, Kirsten Lepore, Allison Schulnik, Miwa Matreyek, Saya Woolfalk, Hans Belmer, Yayoi Kusama, Kiki Smith; and writer Caitlin Kiernan.

In the language of your films, there are certain images and symbols you return to, as if revisiting a dream or a nightmare. One such image is the egg. In the past, you’ve listed your influences to include Leonora Carrington, the surrealist painter, and the egg is often a feature of her paintings. In Carrington’s memoir she wrote ‘The egg is the macrocosm and the microcosm, the dividing line between Great and Small, which makes it impossible to see everything at once’. I wonder how you relate to the egg in your own work and whether it could be emblematic of your creative process as a whole, from conception to the creation of your imaginative worlds.

I see the egg as a protective container in which to grow, change, enter the world or pass from one stage into the next. The surface is smooth and featureless, the interior is a mystery. I hadn’t thought of an egg being emblematic to my process, but one could interpret the intentional isolation needed while working on this film as being inside of the shell of the egg. Much happens, but little is seen by those on the outside. The yolk could be the accumulation of inspiration and research that I feed on to fuel my creation. I could go on free associating metaphor, but I think I’ll stop here for now.

Blood Tea and Red String (Dir. Christiane Cegavske) [Source]

I’ll never say never, but at this point I don’t see myself working in virtual reality on my narrative projects as I want to curate every frame to tell the story in effective cinematic language. Though I have gone from film to digital, the end result remains a collection of still images projected in sequence to imitate life.

Lastly, do you have any advice for an independent animator trying to find their way?

Follow your passion and don’t give up. Hone your skills every day. Find a way to make progress on your project whether you secure funding or not. Don’t wait around for a big grant or investor to start working. It is your passion and perseverance that will serve you best and attract people to help you. There is always something you can do to keep your project moving forward, even if it doesn’t feel like it is enough at the time. Oh, and network, network, network! Make a strong effort to connect with other animators as peers and mentors. It is a small but strong community. Perhaps I have just been lucky, but I have found that animators tend to be really supportive of each other. Volunteer to help with a friend’s project if you can. Invite skilled friends to help you. Seek freelance animation jobs. You learn a lot when working with others. Cultivate connections with people willing to give you truly insightful critique. Be willing to hear the negative along with the positive. And finally, the more you animate, the better you become. Work, work, work.

Production Artwork for Seed in the Sand [Source]

To support Christiane on her second self-produced animation, Seed in the Sand, visit her Patreon here – with your pledge, you will be getting an exclusive, behind the scenes look at production and access to film clips that are for your eyes only.

The post Christiane Cegavske Interview: The Alchemy of Animation appeared first on Skwigly Animation Magazine.

Joel Benjamin, director of Where It Floods

Nicholas De Fina, director of LeSeurdmin

and Dan Ekis, director of Grey Island.

Also in this episode we speak with Natasha Price of Engine House, a Cornwall-based studio who are embarking on their own indie feature Back From The Dead Red thanks to the support of blockchain entertainment studio SingularDTV.

Stream below or direct download:

Presented, edited and produced by Ben Mitchell
Music by Ben Mitchell

Independent Animation: Developing, Producing and Distributing Your Animated Films is available to buy now from Taylor & Francis/CRC Press

The post Podcast – Making Independent Animated Features appeared first on Skwigly Animation Magazine.

Animated content is in the middle of a golden age, with shows like Rick & Morty (recently renewed for another SEVENTY episodes), The Amazing World of Gumball, Bob’s Burgers & BoJack Horseman attracting young audiences that broadcasters crave and advertisers love. On YouTube, channels like HISOE, Dorkly, Frederator, Mondo and a relatively small but significant number of individual creators are pulling in hundreds of millions of views a year. There’s also new animation business like Studio Yotta, made up of creative talent who honed their craft on YouTube and sites like NewGrounds.

If you’re thinking “Tom, it sounds like this animation channel game is pretty sweet and easy right?” you’d be… totally wrong. It’s probably never been tougher, especially since YouTube made changes to their algorithm to favour longer content (10 minutes plus). This is especially tough on animation, as it takes significantly more time and resources to produce much shorter videos.

Crash Bandicoot Falls (Mashed)

However, if this is what you are passionate about, banish the clouds of doom above you and don’t start figuring out your mind-blowing unboxing strategy just yet. Launching and building a channel focused on animated content is still possible, and if you play it right can lead to success and lucrative opportunities. The very fact it’s difficult to do means that compared to other online video staples like how to, unboxing, gaming and vlogs, there is less competition and a potentially huge, hungry audience to devour your content.

Here are some tips and things to think about based on my own experiences running Mashed that should help set you on the path to world domination:

TIPS FOR ANIMATION CHANNEL WORLD DOMINATION

Decide what content you want to make: If there’s a specific area or genre you want to focus on, look at who is successful in that area. Alternatively, you identify a gap in the market or an audience, which you think, is underserved. Figure out what you can do that’s unique, and if that’s not possible what kind of twist you can put on it so it stands out

Make content you are passionate about: If you want to make great content, and stay motivated and grow as you work on the channel, this is so important. If you’re passionate about something, then you’re likely already an expert and you can use that knowledge to deliver quality content.

Sonic Time Trouble (Mashed)

Keep things simple: It’s easy to get overly excited and commit too much way too soon. Make your branding clear and simple so the audience knows what you’re producing before they even click on one of your videos. I would recommend uploading at least once a week, but the most important thing is the quality and consistency of what you create. Once you nail that down, start building out.

Build your brand: Make sure your channel branding looks good and communicates what you do simply and effectively. Have thumbnails that are enticing (Audiences love emotion and expressions, which is why our thumbnails always try and show off a great shot but with strong expressive faces). Have a short but engaging call to action at the end of your videos asking people to like, share and subscribe.

Make yourself visible: It doesn’t matter how good your content is if nobody sees it. So set yourself up on social media, not only to promote your content (important) but to also talk to your audience (even more important). Enter competitions where you know lots of people will be watching submissions. Reach out to people and collaborate so you can combine your audiences. Look for places that are likely to have large audiences already around the type of content you make (Like Reddit & Facebook) and post your work.

Link and Sidon (Mashed)

Evolution not revolution: The biggest mistake I see a lot of channels make when they start becoming successful is that they focus entirely on that one type of video that is popular. This is a great strategy – until for one reason or another that popularity disappears and you have no flexibility with what you create – and what your audience will watch. While you will always have a core type of content that your audience really loves, it’s important to always experiment. Find new ways to approach your subject material, work with new people who will have fresh ideas and perspectives. Constantly evaluate what you have published. What worked? What didn’t? How could you have improved it? Combine your own opinion with those you trust, and dive into the analytics to see what patterns you can see.

Thou shall not be a douchebag: There will be occasions where you may think there are quicker ways to succeed, but ultimately are self-defeating. Don’t take other peoples content without permission. Don’t just copy another creator’s style, tone or format. Don’t use music you do not have permission to use. Don’t take your audience for granted. Don’t forget to credit people properly. Don’t forget to engage your audience and embrace the good comments as well as the bad ones. Doing any of the above is a pretty quick fire way to either get your channel demonetized or shutdown, or effectively to the same thing when your audience abandons you and you get a bad reputation. Nobody wants that.

Fallout TV Takeover (Mashed)

The above should set you up for world domination, or at the very least help you figure out what it is you want to make, know the best way to deliver and promote that content and start to build a successful animation channel online. Go out and get on it!

See the work of YouTube channel Mashed at youtube.com/mashed

The post Growing Your Own Animation Channel appeared first on Skwigly Animation Magazine.