Author: James Chiang

A Tribute to Richard Williams

A familiar page from Richard Williams’ pioneering book The Animator’s Survival Kit. There’s not an animator out there today who has not referred to (and benefitted from) the pages of this bible of animation.

There are and have been many excellent artists in the field of animation. And then there are geniuses. What sets a genius apart from other great artists? Incomparable devotion to the craft, absolute mastery of skill and technique, and most importantly, the courage and innovation required to break new ground. The late Richard Williams had all of that and more. The world’s recent loss of one of the last living legends of this art form is a stark reminder to us again that art is a way of life and not just mere occupation because this is where we make our mark. Williams’ commitment to his craft and his community went beyond delivering brilliant moments on screen; he had a huge impact thru his teachings and generosity. His famous book, The Animator’s Survival Kit, is a wealth of invaluable knowledge that could have only been produced by him and him alone. We all owe him a debt of gratitude for inspiring us and showing us what art is and what art could be.

“Good drawing is not copying the surface. It has to do with understanding and expression. We don’t want to learn to draw just to end up being imprisoned in showing off our knowledge of joints and muscles. We want to get the kind of reality that a camera can’t get. We want to accentuate and suppress aspects of the model’s character to make it more vivid.” ― Richard Williams, Animator

Here are a few brief samples of my favorite works of his — The Pink Panther, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, and The Thief And The Cobbler — work that was ahead of its time and stands the test of time. In my opinion, they represent the kind of artistry and innovation yet to be duplicated in terms of originality or sheer brilliance in execution. Williams, who had the best of teachers, namely Milt Kahl from Disney and Ken Harris from Warner Bros, most surely lived up to his mentors’ trust and belief in him.

These opening (and closing) titles of The Return of The Pink Panther is a small but great example of what you can do when you’re creative. It’s just a short guy and a ridiculously-colored anthropomorphic panther — there’s no fancy effects, complicated backgrounds or preachy plot lines — but it charms and excites our imagination. For Richard Williams, animating to this iconic Henry Mancini score and doing it alongside his mentor and master animator Ken Harris must’ve been a blast.
In this interview with Richard Williams and director Robert Zemeckis, we get a sense of the absolute brilliance of vision they had in mind when they were making Who Framed Roger Rabbit. This was made over 30 years ago and it’s still stunning. Williams made the impossible possible way ahead of everyone else. The carefully calculated vision and complex concerted effort, as well as daily commitment required must’ve been unfathomable at the time. Aside from Space Jam (1996), it wasn’t until the advent of powerful computers and a long advancement in 3D animation software before we saw anywhere near as successful an implementation of animation with live action.
Considered by many as Richard Williams’ finest work, his ambitious almost 20 year long project The Thief and The Cobbler — which clearly inspired many of the ideas in Disney’s later animated success Aladdin — did things in animation that’s rarely attempted even now. The level of imagination in movement and (abstract) design and sheer magnitude of technical acrobatics (all done with a pencil!) continue to bewilder the mind. The animation is so inventive, playful and beautiful that the graphics alone almost carry the film. (Note: The project was ultimately taken out of Williams’ hands and terribly compromised by the producers/distributors for the re-editing and adding of unplanned voiceovers to the final product).
In this clip, also from The Thief And The Cobbler, we witness the marvel of the character Zig Zag. He’s another a example of Williams’ brilliance of what can be done in terms of pure character work and my hope is that animated filmmaker’s today take serious note of our current lack of innovation, imagination and courage to let the craft develop in ways that’s about more than just fancy polish, pretty lighting and photorealism.

Richard Williams’ work will live on, in our hearts and minds, as well as in our own work whether we know it or not. He has educated all of us and was the foremost example of passion and discipline. In closing, I’d like to extend my deepest condolences to my good friend Alex and the rest of the Williams family for their great loss, a loss felt by all in the global art and film community.

Passion

Water Serpents II. The work of Gustav Klimt is so magnificent, it’s like a dream.

“Where admiration is lacking, both heart and work are weakened.” — Albert Camus, Writer

What does passion mean? For the average person it suggests unbridled romance, sexuality or lust, an insatiable even uncontrollable attraction towards the seemingly unattainable object(s) of our desire. Viewed this way passion can be interpreted as unreasonable, possibly delusional, even dangerous. But for the artist, passion means connection — a longing for the chance to explore, express and create something inside this world, inside this life. This kind of passion is compassionate, a passion born of deep admiration and desire for a richer and humbler understanding of the immediate world around us. It’s about taking each and every thing and moment at its fullest possible value. Nothing half-hearted or half-measured. A devotion to truly creative living means to live with passion— to love fully, play fully, and rest fully (and you’ll need less rest if you do!)

This is why it’s so often said that it’s not about doing what you love but loving what you do, not what you do but how you do it. Attitude is what matters most. We can, and should be, passionate about all things if we are to view ourselves as creative beings. Living truly is living truthfully, living with respect and with honor. Although truth may be a matter of perspective, the right kind of perspective can bring us real joy and fulfillment.


Award winning Actor, Writer, Director and Screen Icon Clint Eastwood isn’t just great at movies, he’s also an accomplished piano player. Image from GQ.

When passionate people perform — and yes, that is ultimately what all creation is, performance — they give it their all. Artists of measure, are constantly challenging their ability to focus, to experiment and to push boundaries. They also resolutely stay the course regardless of obstacles or opinions of others. Discipline, consistency and persistence are hallmarks of all the great artists in history. Whatever stage he’s at, the professional digs deep and digs hard into the work he does. And he takes the same approach to everything. It’s no wonder creative people, like many professional athletes, tend to excel across various platforms. Just as that top footballer also happens to be an excellent skier or tennis player, the accomplished animator is also an excellent painter, can storyboard, or build rigs. Why? Because he loves all that he does and applies the same level of focus and attention to the process, in all his interests. Excellence is a way of being.

“Once your thought, emotions and energy are organized, your very body will be organized.” — Sadhguru Jaggi Vasudev, Yogi

Passion means balance too. It means aligning all the dimensions of our entire being — mind, body, emotions — and channelling all the energies along the same path, in the same direction. Only in this way, is there hope of peak performance, or flow. Creative people who take an unprejudiced approach to doing things slip into “the zone” much more often than regular people do and their body of work is often a testament to that.

Castle and the Sun by Paul Klee, one of the most creative, playful and productive artists of the 20th century.

“Your head is a tower with lenses where light rays dance.” — Paul Klee, Artist

With clarity of focus and dutiful preparation, we can allow our entire being to dance with the universe. Then magical things can happen. For creating art is no small wonder; it takes the most complete attention and at the same time the courage to be utterly vulnerable. When playing with powers beyond our understanding, we must always give our proper respect.

A friend once asked me, while admiring one of my larger paintings, why and how I had formulated it. I said that it did not come from me, but through me, that neither its original conception nor its execution was wholly my own doing. Being a highly rational-minded person, he said it still came from me, that it was really only me, while I insisted otherwise. The reason for my conclusion? The entire process was both a battle and a dream. Much effort went into its creation, but there was so much that was unknown (both before and during), so much serendipity, that the end result was not anything I had anticipated. When I finished it, I didn’t remember how I made it. I still don’t. I think our best work can only come about in such manner, the result of an interdependent concoction of will and destiny.

Stained Glass Windows at the Chapelle du Rosaire designed by Henri Matisse.

“The whole arrangement of my picture is expressive. The place occupied by figures or objects, the empty spaces around them, the proportions, everything plays a part.” – Henri Matisse, Artist

I don’t mean to infer that fine results are the result of luck, but outcomes require many elements to both exist and align at the right place and time. This is why the process is everything. We can only control what’s inside ourselves — and that’s why we work from the inside out for any other approach would be fruitless. Our passion is the vehicle to which we can use to marshal the internal with the external. Everything counts. Everything plays a part, both in our art and, in our lives. How we do anything is how we do everything.

At the end of the day, there’s only life. Sometimes it can all seem like an illusion. For life is so uncertain; only the present moment is real and it’s gone all too soon. In Latin, the word for illusion is “ludere” which means play. Perhaps this is why we must “play” with passion — irrefutable, unapologetic, unprejudiced passion. That’s what I call real living.

“Life is a dream. But it’s also real.” — Sadhguru Jaggi Vasudev