Tag: animation instruction

State of Mind

The magnificent Toshiro Mifune, in one of his most iconic performances — playing the role of a master samurai with a very powerful state of mind. From Akira Kurasawa’s Yojimbo.

“The object, which is back of every true work of art, is the attainment of a state of being, a state of high functioning, a more than ordinary moment of existence. In such moments activity is inevitable, and whether this activity is with brush, pen, chisel, or tongue, its result is but a by-product of the state, a trace, the footprint of the state.” — Robert Henri

In a cult of productivity and consumption — the preoccupation of our times — it’s all too easy to lose sight of our state of mind. What do we mean by this? Well, it means that we’re rarely aware of what and how we’re actually feeling when we’re doing what we’re doing.

For instance, we can be so busy trying to hit a deadline, to satisfy others or even to meet a pre-concieved expectation that we have of ourselves that we lose sight of the act itself. We’re animating/painting/writing etcetera but we’re really not because we’re not present. Instead we’re racing ahead. We mustn’t forget that the event itself is both unique and most important, just as the materials and tools themselves are, the creative challenges at hand, and the atmosphere in which the work takes place. To embrace it all physically first, then mentally, is what it means to be fully attentive, fully present.

“I want the hand to be, if not ahead of the mind, at least simultaneous.” — Philip Guston

It’s dangerous to have the head too far ahead of the body. When that happens, we’re no longer connected to the act. It’s one of the reasons why preparation is so important; once prepared and practiced, the artist can just “do”. The professional athlete in the heat of the moment has little to no time for thinking; all his/her energy is required to hit that ball when it comes, when it counts. When his mind gets too involved, he misses. An effective mind is a clear mind, one that is calm, engaged and proactive. That’s also when operates at its best.

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

Sometimes, the best thing to do when we catch ourselves thinking during the act is to stop. Calm the whole thing down. Re-align mind and body. Stopping things is also an opportunity for asking the right questions, like if the action we’re about to take is even relevant — that is, are we even making the right/best choice. Pain, either physical or psychological, like the pain of failure can also be, is a signal that it’s time to stop. Remember, it’s just as bad an idea to waste time worrying about doing the wrong thing as it is to keep rushing head doing the wrong thing. The artist that’s in sync doesn’t rush towards his goals nor does he avoid or escape his problems. He looks and reacts. Despite adversity, there’s self trust and acceptance.

“I can’t go on, I’ll go on.” — Samuel Beckett

Our state of mind defines the quality of our engagement. If we’re nervous, fearful or excessively ambitious, our work will reflect that since a muddled mind leads to muddied results. I experience this personally with my students and clients all the time. Their work tells me everything; I merely translate what I see to the artist who’s not quite ready to see it themselves.

“The eyes can see only what the mind is prepared to comprehend.” — Henri Bergson

In closing, remember this: attention is the key. The quality of one’s experience depends entirely on the qaulity of our attention and so, too, the outcome of our actions.

Seeing the whole

The little seen photography of Stanley Kubrick before his famous filmmaking career. Kubrick was always an excellent photographer and his way of seeing the whole was a key foundation to the compositional beauty and gravity of his movies.

“…if one would solve the everyday problems of existence, whatever they may be, one must first see the wider issues and then come to the detail. After all, the great painter, the great poet is one who sees the whole — who sees all the heavens, the blue skies, the radiant sunset, the tree, the fleeting bird—all at one glance…then he begins to paint, to write, to sculpt; he works it out in detail. — Krishnamurti

Seeing the big picture seems so difficult. Why is that?

I suspect it’s the dominance of our approach to life, which is becoming ever more mechanical and detailed oriented. We are so left-brain dominant. We seem prone to turn our attention to small, busy abstractions. We automatically think they’re somehow more real, more informative and thus far more important than anything else in comparison. Furthermore, details, even triavialities, have a certain urgency about them, make it doubly hard to turn away. Unfortunately, this gets us into tremendous trouble. This is especially so when we use our pin-point acuity at the wrong time.

Timing is everything. We must know when to think and when to do.

Like a bird that’s going about its daily activities, we need to see big and see small. Most prey animals do both at the same time; they keep one eye out for predators (the big picture environment) while it keeps the other eye fixed on the worm in the ground (the small detail). Unfortunately, we humans are unable to operate under this kind of arrangement. Like most predators, our eyes aim stereoscopically to target our prey. Our goals are specific and thus the details before us are both demanding for accuracy and urgency (our target might escape!). And driven by our desire/greed (i.e. getting the worm), we psychologically forget the larger game.

“I make my work emerge naturally… with no apparent effort but thought out at length and worked out from within.” — Joan Miro

The artist does this when he gets so obsessed with the minutiae of specificity — challenging technicalities that reveal themselves in the strain of the moment — that he messes up the main idea. He’s so caught in the busyness of doing and fixing that he doesn’t even realize that the reason he’s struggly so mightily (later on) is because he’s built his work on a bad foundation. He twists and turns, changing this detail and that, even altering the original core essence of his work. Even professionals fall prey to this terrible habit. It’s easy to forget but skill alone is not enough to ensure success.

We must work always from big picture to small, from the ground up and from the inside out.

When we mess with our workflow — the proper procedural approach to creation — we mess up the work. It’s inevitable. Big studios do this; beginning/advancing production on a project before ironing out story issues or even questioning whether they actually have a good idea in the first place. The individual animator does this; fixing and polishing his shot that has terrible acting and design choices. In both cases, they are working to finish something that’s actually never really even begun. Afterall, re-adjusting and polishing garbage can never transform it from being what it is, garbage!

“Speed is irrelevant if you are going in the wrong direction.” — Mahatma Gandhi

Stop when you realize things are going in the wrong direction.

Too many people, not just artists, just continue onwards despite knowing that they’re going the wrong way. It’s sad but true; habits are hard to break. Call it pride, call it stupidity, but this is almost default behaviour with most people. We repeat the same actions expecting different results. How can this not drive us to bitterness and mad dissappointment?

The solution is simple even if it is hard. (Hint: if it’s too easy and convenient, it’s probably wrong)

The long approach is almost always the right approach. It’s also the simplest. Always spend adequate time to think, explore and plan. Then do the work. Work in order. Review and adjust accordingly, each time checking if you’re on track with the grand design of things. I often remind my own students: First compose the music, then play the music. Design the building before you build it. Learn to see how you actually think and work.

“Consciousness illuminates itself by paying attention to it.” — Albert Camus