March 5, 2004
Kids put their creations in motion
Film board workshop
introduces students to animation
MIRIAM DEWAR
Eight-year-old Malaiya Inookie stands with a picture she has drawn during an
animation workshop in Iqaluit. (PHOTO BY MIRIAM DEWAR)
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The studio at the back of the Inuit Broadcasting Corporation building in Iqaluit
is pitch-black. The only light comes from a cartoon being screened at the front
of the room.
About 12 children sit watching the animated film. It ends, the lights come
on, and the children scurry back to their tables and hunch over small stacks
of paper stapled together at the top.
The first class of a four-day animation workshop for youth offered by the National
Film Board is winding down.
Animation is the time-consuming art of drawing pictures in sequences, which,
when viewed rapidly, simulate motion.
Ten-year-old Julie Hanson-Akavak happily shows the flip book she has created.
"It was fun," she says turning the pages of her booklet. She has
drawn a series of pictures of the tundra in sequence. On later pages a flower
pokes it head up through the ground. When she flips the pages quickly, it looks
like the flower is growing.
Producers from the NFB were in Iqaluit, Pangnirtung and Cape Dorset a few months
ago scouting for artists with an interest in animation for three workshops to
be held later this year.
They visited Iqaluit's Beth McKenty at her home near the beach. McKenty offers
painting sessions for children, and the producers were so impressed that, with
her urging, they decided to offer one workshop for children in the territory's
capital.
John Tanziazic from the NFB centre in Winnipeg is here to teach the workshop
and speaks gently to the children as they finish today's project.
"Have we shot your flip book yet?" he asks nine-year-old Alukie,
who shakes her head.
Her flip-book is placed on a white piece of paper fastened to a desk under
a digital video camera. A laptop computer is on the desk beside it, and another
child sits to do the shooting by pressing a computer key.
The first page of the book, which simply shows Alukie's name, is shot 12 times.
"Press 'enter' 12 times," Tanziazic coaches. The next page is shot
eight times and the rest three. As Alukie turns the pages and holds the book
down, you can see a flower growing blue petals and the yellow and orange sun
in the sky getting gradually brighter.
"That's great," Tanziazic says to Alukie's smile. After a few clicks
of the mouse and a few seconds of processing, Alukie's film plays on the computer
screen. It looks just like a rough cartoon.
Once the students have gone for the day, Tanziazic explains he tries to help
them to realize how long it takes to create animation and to feel what it's
like if they want to pursue it as a career.
"That's why we start with flip-books," he says. "Often the first
few drawings are great." And then the quality tends to diminish. But once
they see their own film, even though it's fairly rudimentary, it's enough to
keep them motivated to try the next step.
Once they have an idea of how things move on screen, the students will work
with paper cutouts, again shooting them in sequence to make a short film before
trying claymation.
"None of these guys have done any animating before," he says of the
Iqaluit group, but he's sure by the time they start claymation - creating three-dimensional
models that are moved slightly each time a shot is taken - they'll be comfortable
with the concepts.
To give them an idea of how long that takes, their final exposure will be to
a technique called cell animation, a traditional way of making animation where
each picture is actually painted on a piece of plastic.
Animation classes are a fairly new phenomenon, Tanziazic says, because making
a film 10 to 15 years ago was very expensive.
The computers and programs were costly and the traditional labour-intensive
technique was just as prohibitive because it had to be shot on film - also expensive.
Today all Tanziazic needed was a laptop, a computer program that can be downloaded
from the Internet, and a camera.
"You can even use a Web cam," he says.
These youth may not grow up to work on the next Finding Nemo movie or South
Park series, but they will leave the workshop with a sense of accomplishment
and, Tanziazic says, a better understanding of how animation is made.
And for Julie Hanson-Akavak, that's just fine. She doesn't want a career doing
animation.
"I want to be a policewoman," she says, taking her flip-book and
heading out the door.
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