Bob the Dragon

The 1983-84 school year at Cal Arts was my favorite, and my student film that year, "Bob the Dragon" is a reflection of that. 

I was a junior that year when Hal Ambro came to teach animation.  Hal was a top notch animator, his work dating back to "Snow White".  Here he was, the man who animated the owl in "Bambi", at our disposal. Thank you, animation gods!  I would take my scenes to him (all on paper back then, kids) and Hal would sit at his animation desk and flip through the entire scene, going over my drawings, one by one, while explaining the importance of silhouette for clarity, or using the hands for expression, or giving the characters an implied weight.  Every visit to Hal turned light bulbs on for me and his mentoring was evident in my film that year, a huge leap from my sophomore effort.

T. Hee was another favorite of my teachers, a kindred spirit when it came to a love of whimsy.  I pitched my film in storyboard form and he not only loved it, but added the gag where the dragon encounters a goat.  Dan Jeup would voice the goat, using the goofy sarcastic laugh noise he would do when someone told a bad joke.  "Mmmahaha!".   The only other vocal was the dragon sniffing, done by the late, great Rusty Mills as only he could.  

I got to push my boundaries with the film, defying gravity, logic, and reality, with no one saying "You can't do that.".   All sound effects were interpretive, like the ricochet sound when Bob hiccups.   There's no arc of character or story whatsoever, it just ends.  I wasn't aiming to be a story guy in those days.  

Like all the Character Animation films back then, the finished product was a pencil test.  We shot our films on 16mm film using a massive old Oxberry camera from the 1920's.  Some day, I'll do a post on the dramas that unfolded around that camera as students got desperate for time.

The music is a piece called "Morning" from jazz artist Billy Taylor's LP  "I Wish I Knew How it Would Feel to Be Free".  Billy Taylor plays piano, Ben Tucker on Bass, and Grady Tate on drums.    After spending hours listening to random records in the CalArts library,  I heard "Morning" and knew I had my score.  It matched my animatic incredibly, just by chance.   I should have given credit.  I correct that now. 

I did, however, credit "The Small World".  What he hell is that?  In the A-113 suite, there was the big room, and the small room that I shared with Kenny Thompkins, Mark Rouse, Tim Hauser, Kirk Wise, Kevin Lima, Fred Cline, Carlos Baeza, and the late Ray "Supreme" Johnson.  Gary Conrad (of the big room) dubbed us "The Small World".   I was thanking them for their input and support, as well as Bob McCrea, who ran the department.

Some truly worthless trivia for you, but its my blog, dammit!

-Steve 

A Zoom Toast to Kelly

Top row: Kevin Lima, Steve Moore, Chris Bailey, Fred Cline.  Middle row: Kirk Wise, Dan Jeup, Rob Minkoff, Wendell Luebbe.  Bottom row: Tim Hauser, Butch Hartman.

Friday night I took part in a toast via Zoom - the pandemic's next best thing to being there.  We were toasting our friend, director Kelly Asbury, who had passed away a week earlier.   There are hundreds of industry people who would have turned up for this, but we kept it to a core group who hung out as CalArts character animation students in the early eighties: Chris Bailey, Fred Cline, Butch Hartman, Tim Hauser, Dan Jeup, Wendell Luebbe, Kevin Lima, Rob Minkoff, Kirk Wise and myself.  These guys are more than an animation who's who to me - they are my brothers. 

For the most part, the gang looked the same - a testament to living the animation life, I guess.  Most of us wore glasses now.  Kevin was rocking a new, bearded cue-ball look. And me with my COVID lockdown '70's hair  (cowbell band, anyone?).  The only real sign of age is that we were on Zoom for more than three hours and never talked shop once. 

Stories I either didn't know or had forgotten kept us laughing for hours - the crazy shit that makes us glad cell phones and social media did not exist back then.  These were not the flattering stories told at funerals, but hilariously human stories about Kelly.  Maybe you had to be there. I'm glad I was.   

"He was like the Sun." Kirk said.  "People just gravitated to him."

Cheers, Kelly!

-Steve

CalArts dorm, July 1984.  From left: Mark Rouse, Kirk Wise (white shirt), Butch Hartman, Steve Moore, and Kelly Asbury. Photo by Kevin Lima

A Great Day for America - The Far Side is Back!

The overwhelming majority of Americans can agree that the return of Gary Larsen's "The Far Side" comics is great news.  I read about this yesterday on CNN's website though it was not headline news for some reason.  In the CNN article, Larsen explains that he decided to make an official Far Side site because so much of his work was posted online without his permission - fan sites, but more irritatingly, sites exploiting his work to promote their own products or services.  His new site will feature the old strips, but promises some new stuff to come.

Appreciating Diane Disney

Sad news.  Diane Disney, Walt's daughter, died today at the age of 79.  

I had the opportunity to meet Diane in 1984, as a Cal Arts student.  The school had just completed a new student apartment complex, and was having an open house for the trustees.  As a rule, if there was free wine and food to be had, we were there - we being fellow students Tim Hauser, Kevin Lima, and myself.  Tim has the greatest knowledge of all things Disney of anyone I know, and he was quick to point out the presence of the big players - Card Walker, Donn B. Tatum, Roy Disney, and his cousin Diane.

My Most Influential Contemporaries

I have posted before about artistic influences, artists who I did not work with personally, but had a strong influence on my own work.  This time, I write about artists of my generation. In the past 30 years, I have worked with hundreds of artists, and many have influenced me in some manner.  Here is a list of five artists who, for me, had the greatest impact, in chronological order.  

1.  Dan Jeup – Dan was my roommate during my freshman year of CalArts, in 1981.  I knew next to nothing about Disney animation, though Dan was already animating at a professional level, and was an encyclopedia of Disney animation knowledge.  His passion for the medium was contagious, and I felt lucky to be asked along when he studied Disney film prints in the school library, pointing out different animation techniques.  Dan taught me about editing and match cuts and animating a character with weight.   And I taught him how to drink a lot of beer.

Cal Arts and the Easter Gorilla

At Easter of 1985, I was living in the CalArts dormitory of heathens when I hatched an idea: I would borrow the Bo-Peep dress Kevin Lima made for the pagan holiday of Halloween - yes, the director of Tarzan went as Bo-Peep - then I'd put on my gorilla mask and go through the dorm giving out....uh...potatoes.   Easter spuds.  Ha!

I called upon first grade memories to create little baskets using construction paper and staples, baskets just big enough to nest a potato. On  Easter morning, I got dressed, gathered my potato baskets and set off to bring joy to the sleepy student body.  Surely this gag would be a gasser!

Kevin Lima on Harald Seipermann's Death

The extraordinarily talented German development artist Harald Seipermann has succumbed to cancer. Harald worked on the Disney features such as Mulan, Brother Bear, and Treasure Planet, as well as storyboard work on Who Framed Roger Rabbit?

Director Kevin Lima, who worked with Harald on Tarzan and Enchanted, offered these sentiments:

For Rusty

Rusty Mills needs your help.  He is near the end, suffering from cancer, but is leaving behind a wife and a lot of hospital bills.  A fundraiser has been set up on his behalf.  Please help.

Ty Bosco, Rest in Peace

Australian animator Ty Bosco was found dead in his home last week.  In a career spanning 35 years, he cranked out miles of TV animation for Hanna-Barbera and Disney TV Animation.  He was a bear of a man, with long, unkempt hair rolling wildly past  round shoulders. He lumbered along with knees slightly bent and sweat on his brow, making himself seem heavier than he probably was.  But he was heavy.  And he was always dressed in black.

Ty Bosco living large, with Serena Geddes, left.   Photo courtesy of Serena.  

I first encountered Ty in 1994, at the Kippax Street studio of Walt Disney TV Animation Australia; specifically, in the Men's room.  I was sent to Sydney to direct the finale sequence for Kevin Lima's A Goofy Movie.  Newly arrived and slightly disoriented,  I found myself among the lunchtime crush in the studio's cramped restroom.  As I was washing my hands the door sprang open, indifferent to whether anyone was standing behind it. Filling the doorframe was The Man - Bosco.  He had the appearance of Jerry Garcia's large biker brother. He was mumbling to himself.  Or was he mumbling to me?  He did not look friendly, and I squeezed aside to let him into the bathroom stall.

Moments later, grunts and moans began to emanate from the stall. The animators laughed and hurled insults.  A few MORE animators walked in. (The room was starting to resemble a Marx Bros sketch.) Ty amped up the volume from the stall, "Ayyyyy, there you are." he said. "Look at that. Hmmm. A fine specimen."  The room erupted in hoots and howls. The more they laughed, the further he went with it.  He thrived on making people laugh, often at his own expense.

I would talk to Ty often over the next six months, usually at the Aurora pub on Friday afternoons, where he had a "schoo-ey" of ale waiting for me.   He would go for lunch and still be there when work let out.  He was a very kind hearted man, and there was some sadness there that fueled his humor. He did not take care of himself, and consequently had chronic health problems.

Mention the name Ty Bosco to an Australian animator, and they'll grin from ear to ear.  Ty wasn't the life of the party, he was the party.  And while he does not dwell in the pantheon of animation gods, he is surely entertaining them in the pub across the street from it.

Director Ian Harrowell worked with Ty for many years, and recalls Ty phoning after Ian had surgery,  "Ty was amazing for my wife, Gina. He rang when things were pretty shitty...I heard Gina PISSING herself on the phone....possibly literally... SO HEALING!
Spoke with him about a month ago...seemed to be happy, now on the dole (retired). Very happy the Swans (Sydney rugby team) were winning big time.  Love you, Mr. Bosco."

Illustrator Serena Geddes, pictured above with Ty at a studio party, said, "I think Ty's passing had more affect on us than we could possibly have imagined. Without realizing it, he has brought a lot of us back together. He was the soul of Disney, more memorable than anyone else there and most loved, when he kept his wandering hands to him self 
that is."

The artists from Disney Australia have set up a Ty Bosco Tributes page on Facebook.  Read more about him and watch some hilarious videos.  

It has been seventeen years since I last spoke to Ty, and yet his death still stings. He was, as the Aussie's say, "A good bloke."

-Steve