Blog

  • Curating My Creative Identity: Establishing a Professional Web Presence

    Context

    As I approach the final month of the MA Character Animation program, the reality of transitioning from student to professional is both exciting and imposing. After two years of intensive study, countless late nights perfecting walk cycles, and pushing the boundaries of character performance, I’m now faced with the challenge of applying all that learning into a compelling professional presence.

    Website

    The first major task I’ve tackled is building my portfolio website. This has proven to be almost as creative a challenge as the animation work itself. I want potential employers to experience my work in the best possible light, while also displaying it in a way that expresses who I am as an artist. The site is a careful curation of pieces that showcase my range and technical skills, or at least I hope so. My hero piece – the graduation film we are submitting this week – will take centre stage, but for now it will feature my LIAF film, other assignments, and personal projects. The website needs to load quickly and look professional across all devices, so I’m still tinkering with making it accessible and efficient. I have barely worked on the mobile version, so it does look pretty rudimentary on that front.

    Image 1: Screenshot of website in Wix Builder view
    Image 2: Screenshot of mobile view website in Wix Builder view

    Another major learning curve for this has been ensuring a good user experience while on the site. As much as I had my own lofty goals for creating a “cool” site, I soon learned that navigation and clarity were far more important, especially when considering the site’s primary purpose is to be shared with potential employers. After sending my first version of the site to friends to test and use, I returned to it with better insight on how to make the pages more accessible and the overall user experience more intuitive and friendly. Below is a quick video of the layout as it is in its current state, and here is a link to the site itself.

    Gif 1: Scroll through personal website

    Showreel

    We had some great speakers in class talking about their showreels and how they approach reels as employers as well. In my research into the topic, I found a few videos and sites with more helpful information. Looking at other creatives’ reels also helped me understand the quality of work that is out there.

    Image 3: Showreels on YouTube

    Here’s a link to the reel I created (as it’s too large to upload here). It’s got a long way to go, as it could be trimmed down much more and edited with a discerning eye. I look forward to the showreel event we will have at uni, as it will provide me with more critiques which will no doubt make the reel much better.


  • Navigating the Film Festival Circuit: My Film Submission Experience

    With my final animation project from the MA program finally complete, I’ve decided to return to the film festival world. What seemed like a straightforward process of “just submit your film” very quickly turned into an intricate dance of strategy, creativity, and careful budget management, the last time I attempted this with my LIAF sting ‘Heartwarmer’.

    I wasn’t able to allocate a budget for the short ‘Heartwarmer’, which left me with only a few free festivals to apply to. These were also narrowed down to even less, what with minimum run time requirements and other hidden costs on submission platforms like Short Film Depot. Despite all this, ‘Heartwarmer’ was selected as a Semi-Finalist in the Black & Brown Femme Film Festival, while still in consideration for 2 others.

    Image 1: Submissions list for Heartwarmer

    Researching relevant festivals became a part-time job in itself. I’ve discovered there’s an entire hierarchy I was previously unaware of. The major international festivals like Annecy and the Student Academy Awards are obviously dream destinations, but their submission fees are intimidating for a student project. I’ve been focusing on student-specific competitions and smaller animation-focused events that might be more receptive to emerging artists, but since this is my final film I am a bit more inclined to budget a fair amount to at least give myself a shot.

    From this experience, I learned that I will need to really prepare for when I begin to submit my final film ‘Root Rot’, to festivals. Beyond the obvious requirement of having a high-quality export of my animation, I also realised I needed an entire ecosystem of supporting materials. The poster design is important, as it needs to capture the essence of my character-driven piece while being visually striking enough to stand out among hundreds of other submissions. I’ve learned that festival programmers often see the poster before they watch the film, so it’s essentially my first impression.

    Image 4: Director profile on FilmFreeway

    The financial reality is rather sobering, however. Submission fees range from $20 to $75 per festival (I don’t know how to change the currency on these sites yet), and when you’re applying to more than one festival, that adds up quickly. I’ve had to prioritise pretty ruthlessly, focusing on festivals that specifically celebrate animation and character work rather than casting a wide net (as much as my ego would love me to). Some festivals offer student discounts, which will be a lifesaver for my limited budget.

    Image 5: Watchlist of IDEAL festivals :’)

    I’ve also discovered the importance of timing. Many festivals have seasonal submission windows, and the prestigious ones often require submissions months in advance. This means planning my festival strategy almost as carefully as I planned my film’s production schedule. Missing a deadline for a perfect-fit festival because I didn’t research early enough would be heartbreaking. For example, I worked overtime almost non-stop in the week leading up to the Student Academy Awards, only to be stumped by the submission requirement of having to submit my work for grading before submitting to the festival. This was obviously impossible as our deadline was still a week away from the festival deadline, and as I didn’t want to risk disqualification, I ended up not submitting anything. This was extremely disheartening as I had worked pretty hard to rush the project for this early deadline, but I had to recognise this was mostly to satiate my ego and short-term gratification, as I could simply apply next year and ensure the quality of my film.

    The waiting game is perhaps the most challenging part. After months of intensive work on the film and weeks preparing submission materials, there’s nothing to do but wait for responses. Some festivals notify applicants within weeks, others take months. I’m trying to view this period as an opportunity to continue developing my portfolio and preparing for job applications rather than anxiously checking my email every hour.

    Regardless of the outcomes, the process has taught me valuable lessons about presenting my work professionally and understanding the broader animation community. Even if my film doesn’t get accepted anywhere, I’ve built skills in marketing and self-promotion that will serve me well in my career. And who knows? Maybe I’ll get that email that starts with “Congratulations” and makes all the effort worthwhile.


  • From Student to Professional: Entering the Animation Industry

    Context

    The time has now come to prepare for my exit from the learning bubble of safety at UAL, and the impending entry into the workforce. I’ve been slowly dipping my feet into searching for jobs, and the process has certainly been compelling, to say the least. The research phase has been eye-opening. I’ve been diving deep into studios I admire, from major commercial players like The Line and Golden Wolf, to creative powerhouses like Cartoon Saloon. Each has its own culture and pipeline, and I’m tailoring my applications accordingly.

    Image 1: Cartoon Saloon webpage

    While these studios aren’t always hiring, most have email contacts to which portfolios could be sent. I haven’t started cold emailing yet, but I will soon create a Google Sheet of these to keep track of my applications. Some studios clearly value technical innovation, while others prioritise storytelling and character acting. Understanding these nuances helps me position my skills and experience more effectively.

    This has also required me to create multiple documents for each application, including personalised cover letters, resumes with relevant information to be shared alongside my site and showreel.

    Resume

    Creating my resume has been an interesting exercise in understanding different industry needs. My general resume highlights the various projects I’ve worked on, my educational history, and the software I am most proficient in. But I should also craft specialised versions: one emphasising my storyboarding background for studios that value that crossover skill, and another focusing on my collaborative project work for team-oriented environments. Projects like my LIAF sting ‘Heartwarmer’ would be a great example to highlight in the latter. Each version should tell the same story of my development as an animator, but with different emphases depending on the role.

    Image 2: Basic resume format

    Applications

    I’m also casting a wide net between full-time positions and internships. While I’m eager to jump into a permanent role, I understand that internships at respected studios can provide invaluable industry experience and connections.

    Image 3: Last communication from Golden Wolf re my application (they never got back)
    Image 4: Art&Graft Internship

    The application process itself requires patience and organisation. I’m tracking every submission, following up appropriately, and treating each application as seriously as the last. Rejection is part of the process, and it is particularly difficult when no replies are received, but such is life.

    Networking has become surprisingly important. I’ve been attending virtual industry events (like Brighton International Animation Festival), connecting with alumni from my program, and engaging with filmmakers in person and online.

    Image 3: Tickets for BIAF

    The animation community is surprisingly small and supportive, and I’ve found that genuine conversations about craft and industry trends often lead to valuable insights about opportunities that aren’t publicly advertised. Keeping in touch with Christina Nerland (who was a tutor in year one, but left UAL earlier this year) has been incredibly fruitful, as I have been able to receive some tips and nudges in the right direction. These opportunities I’ve applied to have yet to result in anything positive (sadly) but I am sure something will work out eventually.

    Image 4: Screenshot of Christina being ultra helpful

    Conclusion

    As I prepare to graduate, I’m excited about the possibilities ahead. The skills I’ve developed go beyond just moving characters on screen – I’ve learned problem-solving, collaboration, and creative storytelling. Now it’s time to find the right studio where I can contribute to bringing characters to life and continue growing as an artist.


  • Animating Outside the Lines: A Quick Dive into The Line Studio

    Who are they?

    The Line is a BAFTA-nominated animation studio based in London, with a portfolio that boasts a wide variety of animation styles, primarily focusing on 2D animation. They started as a team of 6 animators working freelance, before growing into a fully functioning studio with clients and collaborations that range from Blizzard to Riot Games, and Chobani to Gorillaz. Their style is incredibly versatile, and they deliver consistent work of very high production quality, clearly reaching their goal of elevating everything they touch (The Line, 2024).

    Image 1: Still from ‘Dear Alice’ dir. Bjorn Erik-Aschim for Chobani (2021)
    Exploring their work

    They have an impressive portfolio that heavily favours 2D frame-by-frame animation, which is something I rarely see in studios these days. With 3D animation becoming more and more accessible and efficient, 2D frame-by-frame techniques have begun to take a backseat to its more efficient counterpart; vector-based 2D puppet animation. The Line still keeps strong with their commitment to traditional digital 2D techniques, and this is what drew my eye to their work in the first place.

    Their project for Chobani caught my attention way before I knew anything about the studio, but it was a more recent project for a Marvel game that prompted me to track down the studio. The music video transitions through multiple nostalgic comic book styles, with a narrative that is easy for those who aren’t fans to relate to, yet ties in well to the characters in the Marvel universe that feature in it.

    Image 2: Still A from ‘Hero’ (2022)
    Image 3: Still B from ‘Hero’ (2022)

    From these stills, you can get an idea of how vibrantly different the visual styles are and the techniques that have been used. Image 2 is clearly inspired by early X-Men TV shows of the early 90s, while Image 3 features a risograph print style that is reminiscent of early halftone-printed comics. This scene was animated in 2D, and then each frame was printed and scanned to ensure an authentic effect. This kind of experimentation shows a deeper understanding and value for the material of the brief; they know their client’s story and know how to present it best.

    Image 4: Beatboards from ‘Hero’ dir. Tim McCourt, Max Taylor

    This project, among other incredible productions in their reel, really warmed me up to the option of commercial work. Personally, I would prefer to attach myself to a studio that focuses on stories for film or TV, however, this type of work has its own attractive qualities. The wide array of styles and subject matter is appealing to me as I believe it will keep my attention, and also push me to be more versatile in my style and creative approach. While work for clients is generally thought to be more stifling and has its restraints, seeing what The Line can do with these parameters is greatly inspiring.


  • Invisible Architects: How Lead Animators Shape Animated Worlds

    Behind every memorable animated character lies the intricate work of a lead animator, a creative who does far more than simply draw moving pictures. These artistic directors are responsible for establishing the visual language, emotional depth, and physical performance of entire animated worlds. It is the role almost every animator covets, and I too fall into this category.

    Star Animators

    A lead animator is essentially a conductor of performance. They don’t just animate individual scenes, but define the entire movement vocabulary of characters. Glen Keane, a legendary Disney animator who brought characters like Ariel in The Little Mermaid (1989) and Beast in Beauty and the Beast (1991) to life, is a great example of success in this role. Keane didn’t just draw these characters; he breathed psychological complexity into their every movement, making them feel genuinely alive.

    His work earned him praise for the force and weight he brought to the grizzly, as well as the visceral feel of the scene.

    (Walt Disney Archives, n.d.)

    This excerpt from the Disney Legends dedication to Keane describes how he brought the antagonist in The Fox and the Hound (1981) to life with such intensity and attention to the demands of the narrative.

    Glen Keane’s boards for ‘The Fox and the Hound’ (1981)

    The magic of lead animation becomes most apparent in moments of subtle expression. Andreas Deja, another Disney master, similarly transformed characters like Scar in The Lion King (1994) into unforgettable personalities through careful attention to movement and acting. His work goes beyond technical skill – it’s about understanding character psychology and translating inner emotions through physical performance.

    At least the personality seems to be coming through.
    Scar was evil, but also intelligent. And that’s a dangerous combination.
    And he sure enjoyed being bad.

    (Deja, 2011)
    Image 2: Pencil tests of Scare from ‘The Lion King’ (1994) by Andreas Deja
    The role of a lead

    The lead animator’s role is incredibly complex and multifaceted. Besides drawing, they must be storytellers, performance directors, and technical innovators. They work closely with directors, character designers, and entire animation teams to ensure that every movement tells a story. Each gesture, each subtle shift of weight, and each facial expression must communicate character, emotion, and narrative progression.

    The role requires an extraordinary blend of artistic sensitivity and technical prowess. Lead animators must understand anatomy, performance, storytelling, and modern digital technologies. They are part artist, part psychologist, and part technical engineer.

    Conclusion

    As animation continues to evolve, lead animators remain the unsung heroes transforming imagination into mesmerizing visual experiences that captivate audiences worldwide. They are the invisible architects who construct entire worlds, one carefully crafted movement at a time.

    It would be a dream to expand my skills enough to fit the giant shoes a role like this requires. Lead animators orchestrate the performance of their characters, and contribute immensely to the overall weight of the story as a whole, and this role is incredibly enticing as it is demanding.

    Sources:

    Deja, A. (2011). Scar Pencil Tests. Deja View. Available at: https://andreasdeja.blogspot.com/2011/09/scar-pencil-tests.html.Walt Disney Archives (n.d.)

    Glen Keane. [online] D23. Available at: https://d23.com/walt-disney-legend/glen-keane/


  • Understanding the Role of a Storyboard Artist

    Introduction to the role

    Storyboard artists are crucial creative professionals in film, animation, television, and other visual storytelling media. Their main role is to interpret a script or narrative into a series of sequential drawings that outline key scenes, camera angles, and narrative flow for a project. They are responsible for converting scripts into visual sequences, composing scenes to enhance emotional and narrative beats, determining the pacing and rhythm of the project, and collaborating with the director, head of story, and other team members to ensure the vision of the project is achieved, among other things (Deguzman, 2022). They are important for the pre-production stage of most creative projects, as the information they provide on the boards will go on to support the rest of production.

    Importance of a storyboard

    Storyboards are more than just visualisations of what the end media will look like. While they can range from scribbles and doodles to detailed layouts, they also communicate a variety of other important information to the production crew. Storyboards usually include directions for camera angles, cinematography techniques, and sometimes even sound and music cues. This information is important to lock down before production begins as it saves time, energy and money, especially when studios send their boards out to external companies for the animation stage.

    Boards from Batman & Mr. Freeze: SubZero (1998) by Dan Vessemeyer (Veesenmeyer, 2014)

    This board is a great example of a balance between detailed artwork and scene information. But while direction and information are important, storyboard artists must keep in mind how their choices affect the emotions and narrative of the story. Complex camera angles and cool transitions can make animations seem interesting and novel, but it will all fall flat if audiences don’t connect with the story or the characters. Framing, pacing and composition all contribute to how well a scene conveys its intentions to its viewers.

    During storyboard screenings, while everyone is watching the episode, the story artists are watching the viewer’s faces. We watch to see if they laugh when we hoped they would, and if they cried when we expected them to.

    Interview with India Swift (Hynes, 2021)
    Storyboarding in the industry

    A storyboard artist rarely works alone in a production pipeline in modern studios, and a TV show will have multiple artists per episode and a few teams in rotation. This can make work harder for artists when trying to maintain continuity in the style of humour and narrative interpretation, but it does speed up the process, which is important when working on tight deadlines for larger projects.

    Generally, I find a 22-minute episode will have between 2 and 4 artists. Any given TV show will have 3 to 5 teams that work in rotation. That way production can lean on one of the rotating teams to support launching a new episode every week

    Interview with Tim Hodge (Hynes, 2021)
    Conclusion

    My research into the role has solidified my existing admiration of the contributions storyboard artists make towards creative projects. Their hard work enables the rest of production to work smoothly and ensure the story is communicated to its audience in the most effective way possible. While I love animating, I do feel drawn to the pre-production stage of animated projects, as I think I can contribute more to the storytelling aspect from there. If I were to choose another role besides animation, I would love to be a storyboard artist.

    Sources:

    Deguzman, K. (2022). Inside the Job — Everything Storyboard Artists Do. [online] StudioBinder. Available at: https://www.studiobinder.com/blog/what-is-a-storyboard-artist-job-description/.

    Hynes, E. (2021). A Typical Day in the Life of a Storyboard Artist. Toon Boom Animation. Available at: https://www.toonboom.com/a-typical-day-in-the-life-of-a-storyboard-artist [Accessed 17 Nov. 2024].

    Veesenmeyer, D. (2014). The Art of Dan Veesenmeyer. [online] The Art of Dan Veesenmeyer. Available at: https://dansartwork.com/storyboards [Accessed 27 Nov. 2024].


  • Simulated work experience

    The Year 2 student I was paired with was Zhimeng Zhang. Before I received any files from her, I managed to find her Instagram account and was immediately in awe of her work. Her smooth 2D animation and riveting art style captured my attention instantly, and I knew we’d work well together.

    Zhimeng was extremely punctual and responded to my email way sooner than I expected, considering how busy she must have been. She was eager to share her storyboards and creative explorations for her film, and I was eager to help in any way I could. She offered to let me assist her with some roughs for a scene, and I gladly accepted. According to an annotated storyboard, I was to animate the roughs for the “Grandpa” character over

    Within the following week, I sent her updates as I worked and she offered her feedback where necessary. She was always quick to respond and encouraged me to ask questions when I needed to. This ready and open communication was great to work alongside, and her feedback was always concise and helpful. I was excited every time I worked on her project, and really wanted to make sure I did it justice.

    Her character has a more complex form than most things I animated for my own projects, and the angles she had for some shots were an extra challenge. Still, I was excited to push myself and see how well I could manage to execute her vision.

    Roughs Progress 03

    In both these, it’s clear there isn’t much in terms of pacing, as I wasn’t entirely sure how slow or fast she wanted the film to go, but I tried my best to give her a decent base to work off.

    Roughs Progress 05

    This is the only minor setback I can think of- the lack of detailed direction in the storyboard. While she had provided me with a working file complete with the frames of her storyboard inserted as “keys” for the timing of the shots, I still felt a lack of precise direction. Since I was to merely carry out her vision for the film, I found myself unsure of how to pace the roughs without any real keys for guidance. However, since she was readily available for questions, I was able to make good progress.

    All in all, though, this project was really exciting and presented a welcome challenge. I hope it was useful progress, even if it is a tiny blip in the workload Zhimeng has for the film.


  • Unit 01: Body Acting Project

    Practice-based research

    For this project, I chose to animate a classmate’s clown character, Pyrite. Pyrite is a creepy clown who is part of a homicidal clown cult, yet he struggles to participate in the violent acts that are expected of him. To incorporate this facet of his personality, I played around with story ideas that would play on his inability to intimidate despite being a scary clown.

    Board 01
    Storyboard iteration 01

    I started the project with the idea of Pyrite trying to scare a puppy, only to end up finding it cute and falling in love. However, when he tries to squish the puppy in a hug, he crushes it. This board didn’t have enough of a build-up or a good payoff. It also lacked an understandable beginning and storyline. The dog character was unexplained, and Pyrite’s reaction to it and subsequent actions seem too complicated.

    Board 02
    Storyboard iteration 02

    In this version, I try to replace the dog with a mannequin. Pyrite attempts to intimidate the inanimate model and ends up scaring himself when it just falls over. This was more straightforward compared to the last, but still had some of the same problems as the previous board.

    Board 03
    Storyboard iteration 03
    Storyboard iteration 03

    This is the final board I ended up going forward with. This version establishes Pyrite with his juggling, and allows the dog to enter and interact with the clown, thus prompting the ensuing action. The ending I end up going with isn’t finalized here, but it roughly follows this board.

    Expressions and Keys
    Expressions test
    Rough Keys
    MORE… EXPRESSIONS AND KEYS
    Rough Animation with expression refs

    Here I attempt to add a reference for expressions beside the keys I’m working on, however, none of these get used in the final version as I drew Pyrite’s head WAY too small. There was no room to neatly add the detailed expressions I tested here.

    Moving forward, I would make a note to frame my scene better so that the character is of a decent size. This way, tiny details like Pyrite’s cap and his clown facial details could be drawn in clearly and not have to be simplified like I ended up doing for the final.

    Also, I would explore more open poses, and exaggerate the fluid movements between them. My timing, and the rhythm of the shot, need to be worked on a lot, so I would pay more attention to that as well.


  • The History of Stop Motion Animation

    Stop-motion animation boasts a fascinating history that has evolved over more than a century. It is an enthralling process that requires painstaking manipulation of tangible characters, props, and sets, resulting in unique movie magic, crafted almost entirely by hand. Starting in the late 19th century, stop motion’s early experiments were pioneered by visionaries like Eadweard Muybridge and J. Stuart Blackton. Muybridge’s groundbreaking work involved using a sequence of still photographs to study motion, while Blackton produced one of the earliest stop motion films, “The Humpty Dumpty Circus,” in 1898. These early endeavors set the stage for the development of stop motion as a cinematic art form.

    The silent film era marked a significant period for stop-motion animation, with Willis O’Brien emerging as a key figure. His work on “The Lost World” (1925) showcased the potential of stop motion in feature films. O’Brien reached a milestone with “King Kong” (1933), featuring iconic stop-motion effects that captivated audiences. Concurrently, Ray Harryhausen, inspired by O’Brien, became a prominent figure in stop-motion animation, contributing to classics like “Mighty Joe Young” (1949).

    As cinema continued to grow, stop motion found its way into television during the 1950s and 1960s. Shows like “Gumby” (1955) and “Davey and Goliath” (1960) utilized stop motion techniques, bringing animated characters to the small screen. Simultaneously, the film industry incorporated stop motion for special effects, with Harryhausen’s work in movies like “The 7th Voyage of Sinbad” (1958) leaving an indelible mark.

    The 1970s and 1980s witnessed the rise of “Claymation,” a term coined to describe stop-motion animation using clay figures. Aardman Animations, founded by Peter Lord and David Sproxton, gained recognition for their claymation characters, notably Wallace and Gromit. This era showcased the versatility of stop motion, as animators experimented with different materials and styles to bring their visions to life.

    The 1990s marked a transition into the digital age, where advancements in technology opened new possibilities for stop-motion animation. Henry Selick’s “The Nightmare Before Christmas” (1993) exemplified the potential of combining traditional stop motion with cutting-edge techniques. During this period, Laika Entertainment emerged as a powerhouse in the industry, producing visually stunning films like “Coraline” (2009) and “Kubo and the Two Strings” (2016), blending traditional stop motion with modern digital technologies.

    In the contemporary landscape, stop-motion animation continues to thrive as a respected and beloved form of storytelling. Filmmakers explore diverse styles and themes, pushing the boundaries of creativity. Wes Anderson’s “Isle of Dogs” (2018) and Laika’s “Missing Link” (2019) are notable examples that showcase the enduring appeal and versatility of stop motion in captivating audiences across generations.

    In conclusion, the history of stop motion animation is a captivating journey through time, from its humble beginnings in the late 19th century to its current status as a sophisticated and versatile art form. As technology has evolved, so too has the artistry and creativity behind stop-motion animation, making it a timeless and enduring medium in the world of filmmaking.