Michael Sporn Animation – Splog

New York seems, at the moment, to be undergoing enormous construction. (Or is it reconstruction?) One can’t help but come upon cranes of every size occupying whole blocks and streets making traffic somewhat complicated – both auto and pedestrian.

The crane to the left can be seen from many blocks away. It occupies 30th Street and Madison Ave. This is an enormous piece of equipment. From a block away it virtually looks as tall as the Empire State Building, behind it. (Of course, it’s significantly shorter, but can you imagine what they needed to construct that building!)

Interestingly enough, there’s a second crane – albeit much shorter – half a block away which is working on another construction site. At times, traffic backs up for blocks. See both in the image below.

(Click any image to enlarge.)

Here are two other views of the same two cranes. The tall one from a block away looking down over a couple of buildings. The image on the right is the short crane as seen from the base of the tall crane.

If you look up to 42nd St from 14th St, you see a mass of construction going on uptown. Even just out of the frame on both the left and right, there’s more. The crane below is to the left at 18th Street. It’s enormous when standing straight up and down. Here it’s bent to pick up materials.

I like the color of the sky against all the cranes pushing into the sky at the right.

Here’s another shot of the same crane from the other side of a building.

The crane above is on 19th Street just east of Broadway. Traffic seems to have learned how to maneuver around these things as it flows without too much difficulty.

I like the physical appearance of these machines. They’re almost attractive in their ugliness. Some of them, like this one, has a cab at the base which harbors a driver who moves the crane about. Others, the larger ones, seem to be built into a construction site of their own. There’s definitely a form to them, and they also seem to match the mesh that covers many of the buildings.

(Two views of the Empire State Building from 23rd Street.)
However, all you have to do is look at some of the buildings left behind,
and everything’s OK.

This week I returned to Madison Square Park to see how the new steel trees have taken root. Were they cleaned up and manicured?

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No, it still looked something like a construction sight. However, there was something new in the air. The vehicles had moved to another point in the park.

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A new tree had landed. There it was, a fatter one on its side with its branches askew just as the first pair of trees had originally appeared. Obviously this is to be a bigger art project than I had expected, and I’d have to return to see the progression.

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But there was more . . .. . . . . . . . .
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A shiny squat object elsewhere in the park.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A rock!

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A day later, the single, squat tree has been righted. I have to say it’s not as impressive as the ones that took a week to construct. We’ll have to see how they all look once the manicuring job of the grounds has been done.

While these steel trees are in construction, real trees are doing their own thing. The
flooding rains of last week left us with magnolia trees blooming around town.

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A small corner plaza outside an apartment building on 22nd Street has a group of trees
that are glowing.

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The Episcopal Church, on Fifth Avenue, has a show on display just outside its front doors.

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Washington Square Park has a tree or two that are in bloom as well.

- Walking through Madison Square Park this past Monday I noticed what looked like hundreds of branches of trees layed out on the central lawn of the park. It took no time to realize that a public sculpture was about to go up. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my camera or I could have done a before and after photo.

Well it’s taken a week, and the sculpture is still under construction. I brought my camera back that evening, and all week as I passed through the park. I wasn’t able to do a before shot, but I did a just-started-building shot and others to follow. They’re to the point where the last straw . . . er, branch has been added to the whole.

So here are some pictures, if you’re interested. We start with the evening of the first day.

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(Click on any image to enlarge.)

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You can see the artist’s model on the table in the foreground of pictures #3 – #5 and see how they planned it.

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You can see that parts are still left on the ground at this point. The sculpture is going to develop, obvously, into two trees whose branches intertwine with each other.

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Only the highly polished silver of the steel will separate the sculpture from the real trees in the park.

Now we move to the second day I returned with my camera.

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We can see that the elements on the ground are fewer, and more of the branches have gone up. The crane is lifting some guys to do the construction after another crane has been used to lift the heavy parts.

There’s a short brochure available at the moment, but it doesn’t really mention the name of the artist nor even the name of the piece. Perhaps this will go up after the silver trees are finally set up.

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Cranes lift, and workers work. The artist (or maybe it’s a rep) stands watching the building of the structure as it enters its final day.

There’s plenty of public art in New York City. Everywhere you go you see odd structures that shape the city. A giant bronze rabbit has been added to Union Square Park. (I first noticed it on the night before Easter Sunday.) There’s a temporary display of very large sculptures by Manolo Valdés in Bryant Park. There’s a giant Picasso sculpture in a housing court three blocks away from my studio. It’s everywhere, and we absorb it into our lives and walk past it daily.

This is the final construction of the trees. I took the picture yesterday late in the day. In a few days, after they’ve cleared all the trucks and debris and have reconstructed the grounds, I’ll take another shot. This is it for now.

Trees in a barrrel outside a local cafe.
They’re not steel, but I like the just the same.

– Do you know who Christo and Jeanne-Claude are?
They are the artists who have made their reputation by covering sculptures, fountains, buildings and shorelines with drapes. Their silk has covered buildings all over Europe and the United States.

The work of the companions has evolved over the years so that they no longer seem to be covering things. Their “Gates” sculpture seemed to have taken New York by storm a couple of years ago. They set up hundreds of flag-like orange gates throughout Central Park, and everyone went. The park became a free and open exhibition.

However, though they may have abandoned covering buildings, I think the idea has caught on in New York City.
I’m here to present evidence that there are many a draped building in NY.
Art has overtaken the City.

(click any image to enlarge.)

I came to realize this while taking my daily walk from home to studio.
I walked past what is becoming my favorite building in the City – the Flatiron Building.

The building, from a bit of a distance, looks flat, but when you come right up on it you realize that it’s a triangular shaped building that angles off as it reaches the cross streets of Broadway/5th Ave and 23rd Street.

As you look down the building, coming to its base, you notice the scaffold.
Scaffolds are everywhere in the City. They’re built to allow building owners to repair, clean or alter the edifice of their building. This way if anything falls off the buildings they won’t be sued.
(I remember a friend who had just bought a cherry-red sports car. His first drive into Manhattan, he parked in front of my old alma-mater, NY Institute of Technology. Their ornate building had an Egyptian-esque decor. When the friend returned to his car, there was a gargoyle looking up from his trunk. It had fallen off the building, smashed through the trunk and smiled up through the bright red metal.)

These scaffolds are everywhere. Across 5th Ave from the Flatiron Building, Bank America is covered in wood and steel.

To the casual pedestrian, these coverings can protect you from rain, but they also block out the sun. However, it isn’t just the scaffolding. As you look up from the scaffolding, you’ll see that the building has been wrapped – à la Christo.

The scaffolds are a mesh of piping. They contain infrequent openings to get in and out of the structures, and they often block up pedestrian traffic.
Stores have to create new signs for themselves so that people can locate the stores buried under the scaffolds.

Naturally, this makes for some wacky signage that seems incongruous with the new ediface over the building’s ediface.

Nothing seems “Juicy” anymore, It’s more like “cagey.”

The wraps come in different colors, designed to beautify the ugly buildings underneath, no doubt. Here’s a blue cover.

This one is white.

Some scaffolds have to be long to cover the extremely wide sidewalks at some points. However, since this building isn’t very wide, the wide scaffold is narrow from the front.

The monument in Washington Square Park was covered in mesh last summer as workers cleaned it. (I don’t have a photo of that, but here’s what it looks without the wrap.)

A block away from my studio is the little but attractive Italian church, Our Lady of Pompeii. They have been wrapped for the past few months. It’s not a high water mark for the church.

However, better for them to be covered than MY building. I get shivers just thinking about that idea.

With all these impersonators, it’s no wonder that Christo and Jeanne-Claude have moved from “wrapping” buildings to “gates.”

By the way, all of the images in this post (up to the Washington Square monument & Our Lady of Pompeii Church) were taken between 23rd and 19th Street on fancy Fifth Avenue. However, this is indicative of the City as a whole, not just that area.

- So let’s talk about something boring. What I do everyday is walk to and from work. That’s about a two mile stretch from 30th Street on the East side of NY to the West Village. (And back.) Everytime I walk it I see a lot of the same things, but those things are always varied and interesting.

I see a lot of taxis. Taxis used to come in two forms:

the normal kind of everyday-looking-car type; and the Checker Cab.

These cabs were vehicles that could seat six people comfortably, or if there were just one or two of you, it left a lot of leg room. Somehow even the look of the bubbled Checker Cab was pleasant, and it was specific to NYC.

However, for some reason a couple of years back, the wise NYC officials decided to outlaw the Checker Cab. I suppose it was time for them (in their minds) to modernize the look of the NYC taxicab. So an institution left our city streets and was replaced by these:

This is all an attempt to turn New York City into the largest suburban shopping mall in the world. It’s working.

However, there is something else that is specific to New York (and probably Los Angeles).

Everyday – I mean it every single day – I come upon a block (always a different one on that two mile walk) that is “coned off,” meaning you’re not allowed to park there. Sometimes they even block off access to pedestrians. This can only mean one thing:

They’re shooting a movie.

There are always signs telling you what film or commercial they’re shooting and there are always bits of movie paraphernalia being set up.

Usually it stretches around a couple of blocks as guys unload trucks of equipment.

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This is New York, so you expect to see a lot of signage. I don’t mind that; I’ve always found it entertaining.

As a matter of fact, I’ve sometimes played a game (with myself) incorporating words in my sightline into conversations I’m having with people. I try to get away without their knowing it. As you may imagine this annoys some of those who know what nonsense I’m up to.

However, on their own, signs are interesting. They reveal a bit about the person who created them.

Many are unwittingly entertaining, others are tittering jokes.

Still others are just downright intellectually amusing. The book store, of course, pulls me in every time (it’s a great shop for remaindered books). Eisenberg’s Sandwiches makes me smile. Without my presence would Heisenberg’s Principle even exist?

As I get through Washington Square Park, my walk starts winding down. I’m getting closer to my studio.

Oh look, the storefront gypsy palmreader above me has gotten a cat. He’s a couple of years old. He reminds me a bit of Alex, my new boy, who’s almost a year old.

Enough with the photos; I’m at the studio. Oh, yeah, all of the pictures enlarge by clicking them.

- This Sunday’s photo features the only pictures I have of my very first studio. If you remember, from past wriitngs, originally I set up in an apartment leased by Richard Williams. I took care of his apartment while he was out of town (most of the time), and we did Woman of the Year out of that space. (You can see photos of that space here.) Once it became clear that I needed my own space, I found one in a building at One West 30th Street.

It was an historic building and a very interesting site. Every floor was decorated differently, and except for the second floor it was completely housing. The second floor had about half dozen office spaces. Two of them were Persian rug dealers with whom we spent time drinking a lot of Turkish coffee. (This area of NY features quite a few rug sellers.)

My office looked like something out of Sam Spade. All these steel and glass partitions broke the space up into two parts. In the photo above, I’m standing in the larger space (maybe 20 foot squared) which leads into the back area, my space. This was possibly 10×20. I loved it.

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The B&W photo above left is the only other picture I have from that space. The framed cels are from Woman of the Year; it sits above the end title image from Morris’ Disappearing Bag. Both of these were done in 1981-82. Hence this photo dates back to 1982. The color image above was taken this morning from the vantage of our current studio’s front door. The flowers are on the front desk.

Last week we saw a day of heavy snow/rain/sleet which left the City covered with 3-4 inches of iced snow. A week later it still covers most of the town. Garbage is piling up a bit more than usual and construction has slowed down – just a bit.

This is the front of my building. A gypsy fortune teller sits just atop the entrace to my space – down a dozen steps. There’s a knitting shop (red for Valentine’s Day) next door. They have a cafe wherein many women seem to gather to knit. (I’ve only been in the store once, but it’s usually filled into the late hours.)

This is the actual entrace down some icy steps.

Once you go down these steps you have to walk down an icy, outdoor corridor. On the left you can see this corridor from the street side. On the right it’s from the studio side.

Finally. from the front door of this studio you see this space. (I’m literally standing in the doorway.) This room has four stations equipped with drawing tables and computers as well as two other computer setups. Paul Carrillo, my editor, works all the way in the back right. Matt Clinton, our principal animator on staff, works to the back left. Christine O’Neill, my assistant, sits behind the flowers, up-front.

My room is in another room to the right.

- This past Friday we celebrated Heidi’s birthday in my studio. It marked the first party in the newish studio. (Actually, we’ve already been here for three plus years. It’s hard to believe.)
Some of my favorite people in the New York animation scene came out in the cold as well as a number of Heidi’s friends. I like posting the pictures here rather than on Flickr. It makes this blog a bit more personal.
(Click on any image to enlarge.)

Instead of gifts everyone was asked to bring a hand-drawn card. Easy for artists, but some of the most inventive and fun were from the non-artists. I may post a couple with Heidi’s permission in the next week.

The most amazing to me was a cel Tissa David gave her from a UPA short. It’s a beauty of a Taurean bull floating in the star filled sky. Its paper matte has printed on it “A UPA cel.”

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1. production coordinator/BG artist Adrian Urquidez (blowing a kiss to the camera) and Heidi.
2. ASIFA East Pres/animation Director Dave Levy and companion Debbie talk to designer/BG artist Jason McDonald.

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3. Dominik Spitol (Masako’s husband), Adrian Urquidez, animation producer Masako Kanayama, and animator Matt Clinton.
4. Adrian Urquidez, Jason McDonald, editor Paul Carillo, Heidi Stallings, and Matthew Clinton.

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5. The food line (L to R): Adrian Urquidez, Jason McDonald, artist Ken Brown, Master Animator Tissa David, Chuck (Candy’s companion).
6. Chuck, animation director/producer Candy Kugel (partially hidden) Debbie, Dave Levy.

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7. Candy Kugel, Tissa David, Joe Kennedy (John Canemaker’s companion), independent animator/author John Canemaker and animator John Dilworth.
8. Candy Kugel, Joe Kennedy, John Canemaker and John Dilworth

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9. Dominick Spitol, artist Steve MacQuignon, Masako Kanayama.
10. Paul Carrillo, independent animator Lisa Crafts and actress Eileen Tepper

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11. John Dilworth avoids the food by wearing a painted veil.
12. Eileen Tepper, Heidi and writer Jane Stouffer

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13. animator Ray Kosarin, Dominick Spitol, clay animator Jimmy Picker, Lorna (Paul’s companion) and Paul Carrillo.
14. Paul Carrillo and writer Jerry Rosco (my brother) stand in front. In back L to R:John Canemaker, Dave Levy (behind Paul), Debbie, Jason McDonald, Tissa David and Lisa Crafts.

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15. Heidi talking with friend Jane Stouffer
16. Actor Joel Briel (behind stanchion), Heidi and Jane.

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17. Joe Kennedy (in background) Adrian Urquidez (in foreground)
18. Steve MacQuignon (in background) Dave Levy (in foreground)

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19. Dave, Steve MacQuignon (partially hidden), Debbie, Masako, Matt, animation director Ray Kosarin (arm over face) and Dominick
20. Candy, Matt, Dave and Debbie

21. The card that everyone signed for Heidi. (Note that there are a number of others not photographed – such as Signe Bauman and Debby Solomon. Apologies to them, but I got lazy with the camera after a bit.)
22. The physical remains.

- How many times have I been to Annecy? Maybe ten. How many pictures do I have of the times there? Not too many. I always thought of the time in terms of food (oddly I always think of Ottawa in terms of films I’ve seen.)

One year was a bit different than others. It was about 1992; I was there alone and spent a lot of time floating about by myself. I got to meet a lot of older, more established masters such as Jan Lenica, George Schwizgebel, Rein Raamat, and Gene Deitch. I spent some time with a number of Brits who were there. It was the first time I’d met the folks from Aardman (not Nick Park who hadn’t risen to glory yet) as well as folk from TVC: Dave Unwin and John Coates.

The Americans weren’t into food. They would make sure to buy loaves of bread to take into screenings to eat. It had been a different experience for me in the past – lots of good meals in great restaurants. I ended up straddling two worlds that festival and had an original experience doing it.

John Dilworth and Linda Simensky were two friends from NY who were the main anchor for me. Here having a rest between films with a picnic.

Paul Glabicki‘s films have always been something of an inspiration for me, so it was great meeting him (on the left). Hélène Tanguay, of the NFB, stands next to him. Also: John D, me, and Linda.

Me, John and Glen Keane.

The three musketeers with Abby Terkuhle from MTV.

Here at the closing party: Back row L to R: Me, Linda, Paul Glabicki, Dilworth.
Front row: Nourredin Zarrinkelk the Iranian ASIFA board member, Bruno Bozzetto, and Terry Thoren.

At the airport, the four of us had the same flight. Linda Simensky, me, Masako Kanayama and John Dilworth.

- I thought it’d be fun to put together some of the grouped staff shots we used to do a lot. For some reason we haven’t done any in the past ten years; maybe it’s because the numbers of people working here are quite a bit fewer. I guess it’s still worth while for posterity’s sake. We’ll do it soon.

Some of these have appeared before, but it’s a good retread for me; I love it.
All images enlarge by clicking them.

The Lyle crew, back in 1987:

Front row, sitting, L to R: Caroline Zegart - coloring, Steven Dovas - animator, John Schnall - Prod. Coordinator/Animator, Ray Kosarin - Asst. Animator/coloring, Michael Zodorozny - Layout, Bridget Thorne - Art Director/Bgs.

The Abel’s Island group, 1988:

Back row (L to R): Betsy Bauer (colorist), Ray Kosarin (asst animator/colorist), Laura Bryson (behind Ray) (colorist), Robert Marianetti (Prod Mgr), Theresa Smythe (colorist), Mike Wisniewski (asst animator/colorist)
Center row (L to R): Steve MacQuignon (colorist), George McClements (asst animator/ colorist), Greg Perler (editor)
Bot Row (L to R): me, Bridget Thorne (Bg’s)
Not pictured in the photos is Kit Hawkins, my assistant, who took them.

After the move to 632 Broadway a small group working on Baby’s Storytime:

Sitting L to R: me, Jason McDonald, Steve MacQuignon, Mary Thorne, Masako Kanayama

Here’s a birthday party in 1992:

(Back row L to R) colorist - Christine O'Neill, Masako Kanayama, Sue Perrotto, Steve MacQuignon, Ray Kosarin, Liz Seidman, Marilyn Rosado
(Fron row L to R) Ed Askinazi, Jason McDonald, Xiaogang He, Denise Gonzalez, Rodolfo Damaggio. I'm probably off camera still looking at the picture, or else I'm taking the picture.

A Christmas party back in 1996:

Back L to R: Ed Askinazi - editor, Liz Seidman - prod coord, Matthew Sheridan - asst, Stephen MacQuignon (hidden) - colorist, Denise Gonzalez (in yellow) - publicity/asst, Sue Perotto (in red) - animator, Jason McDonald's head - colorist, Masako Kanayama - production supervisor, Rodolfo Damaggio - animator, Marilyn Rosado - office manager.

This is the staff during the making of a pilot for Blackside Entertainment, The Land of the Four Winds. It’s another birthday picture. Lots of color deterioration in the photo. The exposure isn’t great – you can barely make out Champagne’s face.

Sitting around the table L to R: Farid Zacariah (runner), Greg Duva (Asst Anim), Adrian Urquidez(I&Pt), David Levy (Asst Anim), John "Quack" Leard (Asst Anim), Jason McDonald (design, I&Pt), Ed Askinazi (Editor), Robert Marianetti (Prod Coord), Heidi Stallings (casting), me.

Here’s one a couple of months later (a better photo by Kit Hawkins – who was also on staff then.) It celebrated Farid’s last day – our all around guy.

Front row kneeling L to R: Farid Zacariah (runner), Laura Bryson (Bg's), Madeline Fan (Asst Coord), Greg Duva (Asst Anim), Ed Askinazi (Editor)

I’m sure this is boring for a lot of you, but I had fun.

– I’ve posted a couple of pictures from Woman of the Year in the past but thought I go a touch deeper now.

To recap: Woman of the Year was a project that came to me in the very beginning of my studio’s life – 1981. Tony Walton, the enormously talented and fine designer, had gone to Richard Williams in search of a potential animator for WOTY (as we got to call the name of the show.) Dick recommended me. But before doing WOTY, there were some title segments needed for Prince of the City, a Sidney Lumet film. (I’ll discuss that film work some other day.)

Tony Walton designed the character, Katz, which would be the alter-ego of the show’s cartoonist hero, played by Harry Guardino. Through Katz, we’d learn about the problems of a relationship with a media star, played by Lauren Bacall. (All images enlarge by clicking.)
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It turned out to be a very intense production. Three minutes of animation turned into twelve as each segment was more successful than the last. There was no time for pencil tests. I had to run to Boston, where the show was in try-outs, to project different segments weekly; these went into the show that night – usually Wednesdays. I’d rush to the lab to get the dailies, speed to the editor, Sy Fried, to synch them up to a click track that was pre-recorded, then race to the airport to fly to the show for my first screening. Any animation blips would have to be corrected on Thursdays.

There was a small crew working out of a tiny east 32nd Street apartment. This was Dick Williams’ apartment in NY. He was rarely here, and when he did stay in NY, he didn’t stay at the apartment. He asked me to use it as my studio and to make sure the rent was paid on time and the mail was collected. Since we had to work crazy hours, it was a surprise one Saturday morning to find that I’d awakened elderly Jazz great, Max Kaminsky, who Dick had also loaned the apartment. Embarrassed, I ultimately moved to a larger studio – my own – shortly thereafter.

Here are a couple of photos of some of us working:

Tony Charmoli was the show’s choreographer. He worked with me in plotting out the big dance number – a duet between Harry Guardino and our cartoon character. I think this is the only time on Broadway that a cartoon character spoke and sang with a live actor on stage. John Canemaker is taking this photograph and Phillip Schopper is setting up the 16mm camera.

Here Tony Charmoli shows us how to do a dance step. Phillip Schopper, who is filming Tony, figures out how to set up his camera. We used Tony’s dancing as reference, but our animation moves were too broad for anyone to have thought they might have been rotoscoped.

John Canemaker is working with Sy Fried, our editor. John did principal animation with me on the big number. Here they’re working with the click track and the live footage of Tony Charmoli to plot out the moves.

Steve Parton supervised the ink and paint. To get the sharpest lines, we inked on cels and didn’t color the drawings. It was B&W with a bright red bowtie. A spotlight matte over the character, bottom-lit on camera by Gary Becker.

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5. Steve Parton works with painter Barbara Samuels
6. Joey Epstein paints with fire in her eyes.

Joey Epstein paints “Katz.”

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8. Harry Guardino on stage with the creation of “Tessie Kat” developing on screen behind him. This was Harry’s first big solo.
9. John Canemaker gets to see some of his animation with Sy Fried, editor.

One of my quick stops from the lab on the way to Boston? No, I think this is a posed photo.