To Practice vs A Practice

An annotated frame from a study of action choreography and composition from Akira Kurasawa’s classic The Seven Samurai done as part of a lecture series I gave to help an Animation Director improve his understanding of camera and editing.

“Everything is practice.” — Pelé, Soccer Player.

In our heavily cerebral and achievement-oriented culture we often confuse what we mean by practice. In the modern sense, to practice typically means to carry out or perform a task regularly or repeatedly for the purpose of skill acquisition or improvement. A practice on the other hand, is more a way of doing things, an application of an ideology that applies to how we approach the work and why.

To put it more simply, many of us, when we think of practice, believe it to be a chore — an exercise required to be done in order to have notable success. It’s a goal-oriented approach. The student fighter, artist or musician “knows” he needs to improve his skills and thus sets up a routine of repeated tasks to accomplish his goals. Unfortunately, and often without awareness of the fact, his mind is not focused on the task itself but on a desired outcome. Going thru the motions of the exercise — whether it be punching the bag or drawing from a model — he is obsessed with learning/achieving, rather than doing and in so doing, he loses the value of the practice itself. The quality of the practice is always what yields quality results. Hence his desire to be faster, stronger, or better fails to transpire. Why can’t he see it at the time of practice? Because, all the way, he doesn’t take that leap of faith; the acceptance of the fact that it is the undivided attention of doing that brings value to the practice.

Tiago Nunes. This study of a small scene from Bambi, is one of the many kinds of exercises I ask my students to do. In a broad yet detailed analysis of the various forms in a character, the animator can study and see more clearly what actually happens in a piece of good animation.

One the biggest challenges I have as a teacher/coach to young artists both students and professionals alike is to get them to adapt a mindset that is not so achievement oriented. They need to be periodically reminded that being a creative person is a way of life, a way of seeing and doing that is beyond mere reward and punishment. Having a practice equates to having a passion for something we love so much we devote additional time to understand it better. When we truly understand that, we realize that the act of seeing/doing is both rewarding and joyful in itself. To take part in a practice means to participate in a unique experience rather than a mere act of repetition. At the end of the day, how we practice is how we perform. Every devoted professional singer, stage actor and athlete knows this. So should the visual artist.

“Separate thinking from doing. Man is a thinking reed but his greatest works are done when he is not calculating and thinking.” — Suzuki Daisetsu, Zen Teacher

Goals, after all, are just targets to aim at, nothing else and nothing more. We mustn’t confuse having a vision for our art with having a vision of success. One is real and the other (the latter) is abstract. Once the mind is clouded with desires/fears our energies and focus become diluted and weak. Our minds, by default, tend to be excessively analytical, judgemental and paralyzing, and hence have difficulty with accurate perceptions of reality. Unfortunately that’s what brains like to do, always wanting to critique while constantly seeking control. But a mind needs to be still and quiet to operate optimally. It needs to be free of prejudice, void of any ideology or system of formulas. Without such clarity and freedom from desire, all practice loses its potency. Then disappointment reigns; any and all the research or thumbnail sketches that were done, all those drawing or animation classes taken, become wasted efforts. A mind needs to be loose and free, almost playfully attentive to work well. When there’s no true attentiveness, which is genuine listening and doing, practice doesn’t bring skill but instead frustration and dulling of the mind. What else could we expect? Half-assed efforts bring half-assed results. And of course, the experience also sucks. When we repeat things like a machine, we become machine-like; monotonously bored, mechanically disconnected and spiritually empty.

Moth Girl design by my student Serena Smith. Of course, much research, sketching and exploration go into designing a character for animation, but when approached with joy and playfulness the results can be authentic and charming.

But, when we approach our exercises freely, without attachment to results or expectations, then the activities become something entirely different. Each new drawing we make, every study of a masterwork, every test of a crazy idea brings with it a new experience and discovery. We begin to learn more about the craft and more about ourselves. Such activity harkens back to our daily living as children, when each moment, each day was new and exciting. Fear of the unknown was accepted — something adults fail more and more drastically at as they age and occupy their minds with tradition and security. When we approach our practices as a practice, we live young. The mind must work very hard to stay young, but the craftsman, being devoted to his passion, has been given a distinct gift in this manner; his art demands that he remain humble and open-minded. He must embrace the wisdom of insecurity.

“Creativity requires the courage to let go of certainties.” — Erich Fromm, Psychologist

Proceeding from right to left, thumbnail sketches by my student Alisa Hassett, done to resolve a problem in the staging of an animated shot.

So, in summary, when we go about our exercises today know what’s important. Know that practice, like virtue, is its own reward. Sometimes we might even be surprised by how much our skills and understanding can improve abiding by such manner of conduct. More importantly though, is that this kind of “connected-to-doing” trains us to separate the act of listening-doing from thinking, thus saving our analytical minds for when it’s most useful and effective. All great artists practice; they incorporate a ritual into their lives that bring action and passion together and the most fruitful outcome seems inevitable — the arrival of meaningfulness. And that makes having a practice completely worth it.

Student Showcase 2

“Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.” — Confucius, Philosopher

In this week’s student showcase I want to demonstrate the power of simplicity. And to do this, I specifically wanted to discuss the usefulness of the simple exercises that involve walking or running. All the artists that work with me start with walks, runs, jumps and sitting shots. It’s a test of their technical, graphic and creative abilities — almost immediately I know where they stand. I also ask them to do several of them, rather than just one or two, as is common in schools. Moving characters across a layout is not only an opportunity to interact with the environment of the character but also helps ground the shot with a sense of depth and substance. In the selections below, we can see how beautiful and effective simple locomotion can be. Some of these are very short exercises, while others are part of a larger performance.

Shot 1: Bill Meunier

This simple run was an exercise to help the animator get more comfortable working in “spline” mode. He was to do all the necessary research, exploration and planning prior to execution in Maya. Like a performance, the animator then proceeded to work straight-ahead all the while monitoring his weight distribution and paths of action. The significant side-to-side weight distribution and forward head movement, which is admittedly larger than normal, were part of a designed intention to ensure he’d learn good overlap, follow-thru and drag — elements that give the character a solid sense of weight and form. It’d be nice to show the before/after differences in his work but I don’t think that’s necessary; the results here show a successful transition and the walk is tidy. The solid compressions on and off the ground really makes it feel like she’s wearing those bouncy athletic shoes.

Shot 2: Rachel Chelius

I love what the animator did with this simple challenge which was to create some old school slapstick as part of a walk assignment. The pace of the walk is quick and spritely which quickly defines the character’s aloofness making him a likely candidate to slip on something as obvious as a yellow rubber duck. With solid pose and timing, the animator has created a fun yet visually interesting shot. Well chosen distortion and the fanning of multiple images brings back techniques first pioneered by animation masters Tex Avery and Ken Harris.

Shot 3: Richie Prado

Here, I wanted the animator to do a simple run and jump exercise. To establish a sense of timing and weight the character propels himself up and on towards a higher elevation creating interest and depth while interacting with the environment. The reversals in the Lines of Action, and good use of squash and stretch principle give the character a weight that’s rightly appropriate to his design. Expressing personality in every shot is very important under my instruction, so good clear choices must be made of pose and rhythm to ensure that an audience can read easily the attitude of the character. The nice little touch with the spin around and subsequent leaping off are good examples of such decision-making.

Shot 4: Elena Miroglio

In this shot, I challenged the animator to do an acting shot that started with walking and ending with sitting down. A layout and story was chosen to fit the dialogue providing a suitable context. After much planning and reference work, actions and poses were choreographed to make it feel as natural and believable as possible. Although this is presented only in blocking form — the animator had to relocate to a feature studio across the country before this shot could be finished — it’s quite clear how the convincing body mechanics here aids in the motivation of the character whose attention is completely on himself and his story which is archetypal elderly behaviour. This proves time and again that good physical weight go hand and hand with good psychological (or emotional) weight.