Tag: experimental animation

a whole long list of animated documentaries

My last project—abstract animation set to music—is still in progress, but seeing as it is taking longer than I anticipated to complete, and my computer is having a hard time managing the size of the Photoshop file, and, like an obese athlete, pants and heaves and considers suicide every time I force it to run the file…my mind has begun drifting, and I’ve fixated on the specific genre of animated documentaries.

(I WILL finish it, of course, though maybe not this week. Seriously, it’s destroying my computer.)

This case for animated documentaries can be made with this single fact: there exists a Wikipedia page on the topic. (Experimental animation, on the other hand, floats in digital limbo, for though there exists physical literature on the topic, its place in history has not yet been indelibly marked by way of a Wiki page and thus could be argued to be nonexistent.) The first animated documentary was Winsor McCay’s 1918 film The Sinking of the Lusitania, which retells 1915 sinking of the ship Lusitania.

I really love this film. There is a certain simple power in the animation of a tragedy. It feels both metaphorical and matter-of-fact. I hope that makes sense.

In any case. I have always been fascinated with art that feels informational. “It’s info-tainment!” I used to screech, trying to make myself sound as quirky as possible to people who deemed me irrelevant. But this is my Internet blog, and no one has to read or listen if they don’t want to. (Except you, Tom.)

Animated documentaries are truly a wonderful mix of two things I love: art and education. And, on that tangent, animated documentaries easily unpack difficult, abstract concepts by way of illustrating and transmuting images. Most of us are babies who need constant stimulation, and whereas textbooks are eternally boring, animated documentaries have colors and sounds and moving things that can hold our attention for longer than 10 seconds, even when discussing typically boring subjects.

There’s also much more freedom to experiment visually, considering the concrete/realistic nature of documentaries. There is already something there for the audience to hold onto, something recognizable, and so we allow for much greater experimentation to accompany the sound. Because that’s what animated documentaries are: visual accompaniments to a recorded sound. (Except in Lusitania, I guess. But that was before sound.) This differs from most animation where image is determined first and foremost, and sound is subsequent and supportive.

Aside from educational documentaries, I also love storytelling documentaries and podcasts. At this point in my life, I end up spending a lot of time alone on the bus with my headphones in, and I’ve listened to every single Radiolab episode in existence and am making my way through the This American Life oeuvre, slowly and sporadically. I also listen, on occasion, to 99% Invisible, Savage Lovecast, The Moth, and Welcome to Night Vale (which is fictional but still super gr8). I like telling stories about my own life, and I love hearing other people’s stories.

For these reasons—the freedom to visually experiment, the ability to entertainingly transmit information, the and the joy I get from IRL storytelling—I am interested in making a short animated documentary.

For this project, I think I will focus on a story with a narrative as told to me by another person. I would love to make an educational animation sometime in the future, but this week I will stick with the story.

I really, really, really love animation where the dialogue is spontaneous and the animator includes all the pauses and false starts people have when speaking. Often it’s done humorously, and physical mannerisms not audible in the recording are added for characterization. I’m thinking in particular of Nate Milton’s animation using recorded sound from a This American Life episode on middle schoolers:

MIDDLE SCHOOL from Nate Milton on Vimeo.

RCA also makes its students do lip sync animation to archival sounds, which I find really fascinating.

lip sync RCA 2012 from Sophie Koko Gate on Vimeo.

Twins- Lipsynch Project from Sijia Ke on Vimeo.

Oh Aye! from Marcus Armitage on Vimeo.

And some other examples of this:

Chocolate Bacon (2012) from asavari kumar on Vimeo.

FOOD from SIQI SONG on Vimeo.

YOO WANA NOWAT IYEE DIDD from Joseph Bennett on Vimeo.

There also seems to be a genre of animated documentary where people animate to drunk people recounting stories.

“Two Chips” / An Animated Short from Adam Patch on Vimeo.

48HR Film: Drunk History – Babe Didrickson from Ena Kim on Vimeo.

I think I most enjoy story-based animated documentaries where the narrator’s personality is taken into account, particularly in a humorous way.

If The Cuckoo Don’t Crow from Steve Kirby on Vimeo.

Animator Joseph Bennett does this especially well, and his animations—whether recorded himself or taken from another source—are always subtly mocking of the speaker.

A Birthday Card from Joseph Bennett on Vimeo.

Kate Berlant Promo from Joseph Bennett on Vimeo.

Bedtime Stories with Abraham Willosby from Joseph Bennett on Vimeo.

philistine test from Joseph Bennett on Vimeo.

Some other animated documentaries that focus more on drama and animation than humor:

Marcel, King of Tervuren (english) from Tom Schroeder on Vimeo.

Mother from Christoph Steger on Vimeo.

One Nice Family Photo from tom senior on Vimeo.

Finally, two other people I want to highlight are Marcus Armitage (animator) and Bianca Giaever (filmmaker).

I love the oil pastel style that Marcus Armitage animates in. And I love how fun he can make dark or complex subjects be.

What is Literature for? from Marcus Armitage on Vimeo.

My Dad from Marcus Armitage on Vimeo.

Bianca Giaever’s work is touching and humanizing, and I love how she embraces non-linear storytelling methods. She often includes her own voice and opinion, so her work feels very autobiographical and introspective. They are funny and sad—two of my favorite things.

This American Life Videos 4 U: Tattoos from This American Life on Vimeo.

Holy Cow Lisa from Bianca Giaever on Vimeo.

the Scared is scared from Bianca Giaever on Vimeo.

I think this weekend I will try and gather as many field recordings as possible. I’m hoping to get something funny from my mom, who is foreign and often tells stories nonsensically, but if not, I’ll try to squeeze something out from a few of my friends. If that doesn’t work (though I don’t see why it wouldn’t), I’ll comb through Prelinger Archives for an interesting interview that I can animate to. Visually, I’m thinking that I will have two different-ish styles: for the story retelling visuals, they will be illustrated in oil pastel or some other thick, colored medium; and for the character lip sync of the narrator, they will be animated digitally with simpler outlines, like in digital pen or pencil or ink.

And for a post-script, I’d like to include Jonathan Hodgson’s “Feeling My Way,” which is sort of an experimental animated documentary. Not necessarily pertaining to what I want to do for this project, but it’s certainly something I admire and may try to imitate in the future.

Feeling My Way from Jonathan Hodgson on Vimeo.

image music text

This is a pretentious title that alludes to nothing because I haven’t actually read Roland Barthes (though I did try to read “Mythologies” a few months ago but fell asleep, alas), but I swear to GOD that the PDF of that book is downloaded in one of my 300 tabs on Chrome and I definitely plan on reading him someday, ok??

Anyway. For my next assignment, I will be creating an animation timed to music. Well, timed makes it sound formulaic. It will be an animation created in tandem with music, a holy union, where one cannot exist without the other, lest the reality of art itself crumble into an existential heap of nonsense and treachery.

I spent several hours this weekend searching and searching and searching for the perfect song I could animate to. After doing some research (which I will post down below) I realized that music was most typically specifically composed for the explicit purpose of being animated to, either by the animator himself (it’s always “him,” UNTIL NOW) or by a close friend. I don’t really have any tools on hand to create music (though I’d certainly like to one day), and I’ve already exhausted all my music friend resources (they’re all tired of me asking them to MAKE MUSIC FOR ME RIGHT NOW because I’m going to make #SWEET ART), so I had to search Prelinger Archives for some tunes.

This search failed. I was exposed to a lot of different resources that I starred to my Favorites, but I will probably never use any of it. The recordings are too scratchy and muffled! They’re all blues! Or…they’re just bad!

Ultimately, I decided to dig through known favorites. This was initially difficult because though I listen to many different genres and know a lot of different bands (I’m really cool and knowledgeable), everything I listen to is sad. Yes, it’s all sad music. Chopin’s Nocturnes. Del Rey’s “Videogames.” Radiohead’s everything. It’s all sad(core). But I knew that for this animation, I wanted something exciting and textured and silly, because no one wants to watch a sad, abstract animation.

Eventually, I found a song by a new favorite artist, Jean-Jacques Perrey. Naturally, my favorite songs by him are his sad love songs, but he has an extensive experimental repertoire. I will be animating to his song “The Little Ships.”

audio visualizer: jean jacques-perrey’s “the little ships” from Marcie LaCerte on Vimeo.

Anyway. This is getting long-winded and aimless. Here are the animations that I will draw inspiration from this week:

Full video here


A lot of fine art, including experimental animation, can feel inaccessible or boring, but music is a universal language that can open non-artists and animators to receiving fine art. And whereas fine art can have an obscured intent, ambiguous to viewers without knowledge or interest in context, music intrinsically contains an inexpressible clarity of emotion and intent—it transcends language and knowledge and burrows straight into the heart.

Visually, I really love how ecstatic and frenetic the animations are, and how they are so wonderfully colorful and textural and abstract. “cNote,” in particular, is especially beautiful to me. On some level, nearly everyone has some form of synesthesia, and these animations really fulfill that primal desire for objective representation of abstraction—and in this case, that is between music/color/form.

I think what 17-year-old Virginia Woolf once said about music really captures why these films are so effective, why this combination of abstraction and music resonates so well with so many people:

After all we are a world of imitations; all the Arts that is to say imitate as far as they can the one great truth that all can see. Such is the eternal instinct in the human beast, to try & reproduce something of that majesty in paint marble or ink. Somehow ink tonight seems to me the least effectual method of all — & music the nearest to truth.

手水 (a 16mm film)

Using 16mm clear leader film and a couple of sharpies, I attempted to do some drawn on film animation! The actual drawing was pretty fun, though my sharpies were too fat to do any serious detail. The filming portion was difficult and took a far longer than I thought it would…because I hadn’t left any space at the beginning and end of the film and had to splice more on top of it. (Well, a classmate did it for me, so I guess I’m deeply indebted to him and his nimble fingers.)

I captured the film with a digital camera as it was running through a projector. The camera was set on a tripod aimed up at the screen, so the original footage is warped. Also, I’m not entirely sure the film is in focus. I tried to fix the warped effect in post, but it looks a little glitchy. Ah, well.

I wanted to incorporate some recognizable figures/forms, just because the nature of this medium is so abstract, and I tried to augment the recognizability of these objects with sound. So the Chinese character 手 means “hand,” and the character 水 means “water.” I was sort of going for the idea of “stream of consciousness,” without doing a direct translation, but I just looked up if 手水 together meant anything in Chinese, and apparently it’s an archaic form of “latrine.” So that’s fun, and totally intentional.

Anyway! I had fun with this, and I may try to do a scratch test in the future. (Though, again, capturing it all digitally was kind of a hassle. We shall see!)

手水 (16mm film) from Marcie LaCerte on Vimeo.