As I type this I'm in Copenhagen on my last day in Denmark.
I left Viborg yesterday morning. I'm fully ready to get home, but there's also a little sadness too. I'll miss people here and the place it's self as well.
I had a great last day of teaching! My students baked me a cake with my face on it... licorice for the beard and such. They also gave me a couple of parting gifts, a knitted hat (a very Danish one) and a little horn for the scooter back home. It was great. Half of them had to leave right after class to get on a bus for Copenhagen. The scene outside was like kids heading off to college or something. Lots of bags and goodbyes... sad but fun.
Later, I and a few other people from the school had a really wonderful dinner with Morton and Michelle. Then there was a party for a couple of birthdays and more fun after that well into the morning. I didn't sleep at all, but that seemed about right for my last day.
In Copenhagen I was greeted by riots and a semi-police state. I'll talk more about that in a later post. For now I'll just say that it's pretty crazy here, but it looks worse on television.
Once I'm home, I'll be able to send out pictures and tell a little more, but I'll head out now to walk around and take a last look around.
Goodbye Danes... I'll be back.
Sunday, March 4, 2007
Saturday, February 24, 2007
The snow and I are friends again.
It just kept snowing! It snowed all day on Wednesday and most of Thursday, then it stopped for a while on Thursday night. Then Friday, some more big flakes started falling and it just got deeper and whiter until there was 2 to 3 feet of snow on the ground.
Thursday evening after school, a bunch of Danes got together to build an igloo in the field in the middle of the school grounds, the "Kassernej". It was very hygge little scene. Dogs and kids pitched in, and the work went on into the dark. The next day the roof was put on (the tricky part of building an igloo) and there was a small "housewarming" party to celebrate with candles and hot cocoa and chocolates. I wish I had some pictures from the celebration, but instead here's little Birk pitching in...
The other snow construction around the school was a little less wholesome. The 1st year students decided the smaller courtyard between two of the school buildings needed a giant (as they called it) snow phallus. The next day I saw some of my students from my last trip here, the 3rd years. One of them told me they were going to build another one, "but ours will be bigger!". And so they did. For sensitive readers, I'll keep these images in link form, so click here at your own risk.
Here's a few more snow pix from the igloo and around Viborg.... enjoy!
Thursday evening after school, a bunch of Danes got together to build an igloo in the field in the middle of the school grounds, the "Kassernej". It was very hygge little scene. Dogs and kids pitched in, and the work went on into the dark. The next day the roof was put on (the tricky part of building an igloo) and there was a small "housewarming" party to celebrate with candles and hot cocoa and chocolates. I wish I had some pictures from the celebration, but instead here's little Birk pitching in...
The other snow construction around the school was a little less wholesome. The 1st year students decided the smaller courtyard between two of the school buildings needed a giant (as they called it) snow phallus. The next day I saw some of my students from my last trip here, the 3rd years. One of them told me they were going to build another one, "but ours will be bigger!". And so they did. For sensitive readers, I'll keep these images in link form, so click here at your own risk.
Here's a few more snow pix from the igloo and around Viborg.... enjoy!
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Getting What You Wish For
I still love it when it snows here, but today was a nasty one.
Here's an interactive video giving you the sensation of what is was like walking to the school this morning...
Click Me!
Here's an interactive video giving you the sensation of what is was like walking to the school this morning...
Click Me!
Big in Viborg
A couple of weeks ago, the local news here in Viborg came to do a story about the Animation Workshop. They asked me to do an interview. I don't much like being on camera, but how do you pass up a chance to be on TV in another country?
The piece is longer than I expected, about 10 minutes, and very well produced. Reminds you how terrible U.S. local news usually is.
Click Here to Watch
In my defense I said much more insightful things in the part they didn't air. I also didn't grin stupidly quite so much or say "um" every other word.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Danish Chair Smashing
As promised...
After the graduation ceremonies I talked about in my last post, there were various celebrations. Some were for parents and other family members. Others were more for the teachers and staff. But of course, the students had their own plans.
The BIG plan was a "Heavy Metal" party, complete with a death metal band who drove in from another town. They were not very good, but they sure meant it!
Aside from the band, everyone dressed up in what they figured was very "METAL" including dyed hair, head bands, Guns-N-Roses t-shirts, sleeveless jean jackets and lots and lots of marker tattoos. I even heard a little Iron Maiden at one point. But for the most part, they're not naturally very "metal" folks.
So the band plays for a while, and at some point I look around and get a feeling like I know this scene.
It's DALLAS!!! This is like every crappy rock show I've ever gone to in Dallas. Or at least the crowd looks the same. Difference is that these folks are kidding, while the Dallas crowds really mean it. I don't know which is worse.
The band is done, we all drink more beer, and then I see Emil (one of my students pictured in an earlier post) and another student standing on stage yelling for everyone's attention. The chair smashing is about to begin. People are screaming... crazy for it!
"FOUR TEAMS!", the second guy yells, "EACH TEAM HAS TWO PEOPLE!"
There are a couple of minutes while the teams sort themselves out, and some chairs appear. It's all so orderly! The second guy on stage is holding two frying pans which will soon be employed in some chair destruction.
"YOU WILL HAVE ONE MINUTE OF ROCK AND ROLL!!!"
The crowd goes nuts again! I'm way into it too, by now.
They go on explaining the rules... that the winner will be decided by applause and that there will be three rounds... etc. I think there was some kind of prize, but nobody cared about that.
In comes the ROCK AND ROLL!!! The first round starts and I see Danes let loose like I didn't think was possible. It's like there's actually rage in Denmark... and these chairs are catching the bad end of it. Two chairs get smashed to bits. People get cut and bruised, chunks of wood go flying off into the crowd, contestants jump on each other and play like they're about to start fighting.
Winners are declared, the next round goes off, then the next. One of my students, Mette (with the dyed red hair) made it through the second round and into the finals. Makes me feel like I've got a horse to back in this race. She's a tough little thing too.
They start the last round, and I hear somebody lament that it's a shame they're going to smash one particular chair. I look to see, and sure enough, it's a nice old antique looking chair with a red velvet cushion. "That chair probably lasted 100 years", the person said, "and now it's just gonna get smashed up." I wonder if someone should find a more expendable chair, but it's too late. That chair took a beating I wouldn't wish on Katie Couric! Including this well placed head shot by Mette's teammate....
You see all those little particles in the air? That was the chair taking one last shot at the world. The crumbling remains of fibrous padding in that velvet seat exploded into the air and quickly filled everyone's lungs. A few people stumbled out coughing, but the smashing went on!
Mette and her teammate won solidly. Go Mette!
I'd love to tell you this is some old Viking tradition that's lasted down through the centuries, but the truth is that some of the 4th year students (the ones that just graduated) used to get drunk a lot, and one time they started smashing chairs at the end of the night. Like most things, it turned into a competition and is now a tradition.
Clearly this isn't what I'd come to expect from the Danes. The non-jaywalking, coziness loving austere Scandinavians I'd come to know disappeared. Mad people took their places. I don't know whether it's more of the generational difference I've imagined before, or if it's just that these students aren't average Danish folk.
But it was awesome!
After the graduation ceremonies I talked about in my last post, there were various celebrations. Some were for parents and other family members. Others were more for the teachers and staff. But of course, the students had their own plans.
The BIG plan was a "Heavy Metal" party, complete with a death metal band who drove in from another town. They were not very good, but they sure meant it!
Aside from the band, everyone dressed up in what they figured was very "METAL" including dyed hair, head bands, Guns-N-Roses t-shirts, sleeveless jean jackets and lots and lots of marker tattoos. I even heard a little Iron Maiden at one point. But for the most part, they're not naturally very "metal" folks.
So the band plays for a while, and at some point I look around and get a feeling like I know this scene.
It's DALLAS!!! This is like every crappy rock show I've ever gone to in Dallas. Or at least the crowd looks the same. Difference is that these folks are kidding, while the Dallas crowds really mean it. I don't know which is worse.
The band is done, we all drink more beer, and then I see Emil (one of my students pictured in an earlier post) and another student standing on stage yelling for everyone's attention. The chair smashing is about to begin. People are screaming... crazy for it!
"FOUR TEAMS!", the second guy yells, "EACH TEAM HAS TWO PEOPLE!"
There are a couple of minutes while the teams sort themselves out, and some chairs appear. It's all so orderly! The second guy on stage is holding two frying pans which will soon be employed in some chair destruction.
"YOU WILL HAVE ONE MINUTE OF ROCK AND ROLL!!!"
The crowd goes nuts again! I'm way into it too, by now.
They go on explaining the rules... that the winner will be decided by applause and that there will be three rounds... etc. I think there was some kind of prize, but nobody cared about that.
In comes the ROCK AND ROLL!!! The first round starts and I see Danes let loose like I didn't think was possible. It's like there's actually rage in Denmark... and these chairs are catching the bad end of it. Two chairs get smashed to bits. People get cut and bruised, chunks of wood go flying off into the crowd, contestants jump on each other and play like they're about to start fighting.
Winners are declared, the next round goes off, then the next. One of my students, Mette (with the dyed red hair) made it through the second round and into the finals. Makes me feel like I've got a horse to back in this race. She's a tough little thing too.
They start the last round, and I hear somebody lament that it's a shame they're going to smash one particular chair. I look to see, and sure enough, it's a nice old antique looking chair with a red velvet cushion. "That chair probably lasted 100 years", the person said, "and now it's just gonna get smashed up." I wonder if someone should find a more expendable chair, but it's too late. That chair took a beating I wouldn't wish on Katie Couric! Including this well placed head shot by Mette's teammate....
You see all those little particles in the air? That was the chair taking one last shot at the world. The crumbling remains of fibrous padding in that velvet seat exploded into the air and quickly filled everyone's lungs. A few people stumbled out coughing, but the smashing went on!
Mette and her teammate won solidly. Go Mette!
I'd love to tell you this is some old Viking tradition that's lasted down through the centuries, but the truth is that some of the 4th year students (the ones that just graduated) used to get drunk a lot, and one time they started smashing chairs at the end of the night. Like most things, it turned into a competition and is now a tradition.
Clearly this isn't what I'd come to expect from the Danes. The non-jaywalking, coziness loving austere Scandinavians I'd come to know disappeared. Mad people took their places. I don't know whether it's more of the generational difference I've imagined before, or if it's just that these students aren't average Danish folk.
But it was awesome!
Animation Workshop Graduation
The Animation Workshop here in Viborg, Denmark just celebrated their first graduating class of Bachelor Degree students. It's a big deal for the school, and it was exciting to be here for it.
Here they are being really really excited about it. That's Morten Thorning in the middle with the grey beard. He's the director of the school. I've mentioned him before.
I attended the commencement ceremonies which was mostly a screening of the students' bachelor projects. It was fairly informal but sadly some things are universal, so there were quite a few people who got up to give speeches. These were all in Danish, of course. If you think the last commencement speech you had to sit through was boring, imagine that you couldn't understand a single fucking word and still had to sit there still and quiet for an hour. Man!
Then Michelle Nardone got up and gave her speech including a shout out to my good friend David Tart! Michelle being American, it was in English, thank god! Then she presented the films.
There's a sampling of the films here. But I just want to mention two that I really liked...
The first is called "Dharma Dreameater" by Rasmus L. Møller and Edda Hron Kristunsdottir. It's about a witch who rides her magic vacuum around sensing when children are having bad dreams and flying to them to vacuum up the monsters. They used 3d animation to create this wonderful pop-up book style for the whole piece, then animated the characters in traditional 2d. Really imaginative, and really appealing.
The second one (and this was really the crowd favorite) is "Hum" by Søren Bendt Pedersen. Søren produced it almost completely by himself. The story is of a robot, lonely in (presumably) his creator's worshop. It's incredible in detail and quality and is about 8.5 minutes long. That's huge for an individual project, and the results are stunning.
Also worth mentioning were "Monsters from the Id", which you can watch here in it's entirety, "Fishing with Spinoza" (hilarious) and "Cafe' Rendezvous" (also available to view). Check 'em out!
Next post... the celebration. With chair smashing.
Here they are being really really excited about it. That's Morten Thorning in the middle with the grey beard. He's the director of the school. I've mentioned him before.
I attended the commencement ceremonies which was mostly a screening of the students' bachelor projects. It was fairly informal but sadly some things are universal, so there were quite a few people who got up to give speeches. These were all in Danish, of course. If you think the last commencement speech you had to sit through was boring, imagine that you couldn't understand a single fucking word and still had to sit there still and quiet for an hour. Man!
Then Michelle Nardone got up and gave her speech including a shout out to my good friend David Tart! Michelle being American, it was in English, thank god! Then she presented the films.
There's a sampling of the films here. But I just want to mention two that I really liked...
The first is called "Dharma Dreameater" by Rasmus L. Møller and Edda Hron Kristunsdottir. It's about a witch who rides her magic vacuum around sensing when children are having bad dreams and flying to them to vacuum up the monsters. They used 3d animation to create this wonderful pop-up book style for the whole piece, then animated the characters in traditional 2d. Really imaginative, and really appealing.
The second one (and this was really the crowd favorite) is "Hum" by Søren Bendt Pedersen. Søren produced it almost completely by himself. The story is of a robot, lonely in (presumably) his creator's worshop. It's incredible in detail and quality and is about 8.5 minutes long. That's huge for an individual project, and the results are stunning.
Also worth mentioning were "Monsters from the Id", which you can watch here in it's entirety, "Fishing with Spinoza" (hilarious) and "Cafe' Rendezvous" (also available to view). Check 'em out!
Next post... the celebration. With chair smashing.
Saturday, February 3, 2007
Århus... in the middle of our street
To get to London from Viborg, I had to pass through a town called Århus (pronounced Arhoos and alternatively spelled Aarhus). It's a town on the west coast of the Jutland region of Denmark, right on the water. It's got a fairly good sized University, and it was described to me this way, "It's the second largest city in Denmark... which means it's really small."
I decided to head down a couple of days ahead of schedule and check out the town. I was able to find lodging with a couple of people connected with the school. That's the biggest travel tip I can offer anyone... if you have an opportunity, stay with locals! True it saves you some hotel costs, but it also lets you get to know the place much much better, and avoid the touristy crap.
The first night I stayed with Emma and her boyfriend Flemming. Emma is Australian and teaches acting at the school in Viborg. Flemming is a freelance music producer and has set himself up a very nice little recording studio where they both live. The last shot here is the room I slept in.
We went out that night to a great little pub called Ris Ras. Probably my favorite place in Denmark to date for a beer, and it definitely has that "cozy" feeling the Danes like so much.
The next day was the coldest of my trip so far. Even the Danes shivered. Emma showed me around a bit and left me at a Cafe' where I ate a typically massive Danish brunch. I wandered the city center for a while, but it was just too damned cold to do much (pictured).
Still, I saw some of the city, and it's a beautiful place. Lots of walking streets with lots of shops and cafes and big beautiful churches. It also has a fairly big forested area right in the middle of town, but sadly, that was one of the places the weather kept me from.
That night I stayed with Anders, another associate of the school. He owns a small animation studio in Århus called Ja Film along with a friend named Rune. Rune (pic below) has some strange fascination with the recent film version of Miami Vice, so we spent the evening and Anders place screening it while drinking Mojitos. Can't complain... it kept us out of the cold for a while. We did head out late and check out some bad open mic music.
Ja Film is housed in an old building in the a central part of town known as the Latin Quarter. This building was once Chocolate Factory and still has the original sign out front. Their studio is in the top floor and is a beautiful space, perfect for the small group they have working there.
Anders' apartment was also in an attic-like space and also really great. He's built himself a little nest up above the entertainment center in his living room with a clever stair step shaped set of bookshelves leading up. The only thing I didn't like about either of these places was the 4 or 5 flights of stairs I had to tackle loaded down with my pack. If I had that many stairs to climb to get home, I'd be in a lot better shape.
I had a great time in Århus, despite the chill. I'd like to get back here in a warmer season. The waterfront was beautiful, but again, just too cold to enjoy this time of year.
By the way, every time I mentioned Århus to Simon and Leslie in London, they'd start right into "Our House" lyrics by Madness. So full credit to them for my clever title.
"Århus... in the middle of our street!"
I decided to head down a couple of days ahead of schedule and check out the town. I was able to find lodging with a couple of people connected with the school. That's the biggest travel tip I can offer anyone... if you have an opportunity, stay with locals! True it saves you some hotel costs, but it also lets you get to know the place much much better, and avoid the touristy crap.
The first night I stayed with Emma and her boyfriend Flemming. Emma is Australian and teaches acting at the school in Viborg. Flemming is a freelance music producer and has set himself up a very nice little recording studio where they both live. The last shot here is the room I slept in.
We went out that night to a great little pub called Ris Ras. Probably my favorite place in Denmark to date for a beer, and it definitely has that "cozy" feeling the Danes like so much.
The next day was the coldest of my trip so far. Even the Danes shivered. Emma showed me around a bit and left me at a Cafe' where I ate a typically massive Danish brunch. I wandered the city center for a while, but it was just too damned cold to do much (pictured).
Still, I saw some of the city, and it's a beautiful place. Lots of walking streets with lots of shops and cafes and big beautiful churches. It also has a fairly big forested area right in the middle of town, but sadly, that was one of the places the weather kept me from.
That night I stayed with Anders, another associate of the school. He owns a small animation studio in Århus called Ja Film along with a friend named Rune. Rune (pic below) has some strange fascination with the recent film version of Miami Vice, so we spent the evening and Anders place screening it while drinking Mojitos. Can't complain... it kept us out of the cold for a while. We did head out late and check out some bad open mic music.
Ja Film is housed in an old building in the a central part of town known as the Latin Quarter. This building was once Chocolate Factory and still has the original sign out front. Their studio is in the top floor and is a beautiful space, perfect for the small group they have working there.
Anders' apartment was also in an attic-like space and also really great. He's built himself a little nest up above the entertainment center in his living room with a clever stair step shaped set of bookshelves leading up. The only thing I didn't like about either of these places was the 4 or 5 flights of stairs I had to tackle loaded down with my pack. If I had that many stairs to climb to get home, I'd be in a lot better shape.
I had a great time in Århus, despite the chill. I'd like to get back here in a warmer season. The waterfront was beautiful, but again, just too cold to enjoy this time of year.
By the way, every time I mentioned Århus to Simon and Leslie in London, they'd start right into "Our House" lyrics by Madness. So full credit to them for my clever title.
"Århus... in the middle of our street!"
Friday, February 2, 2007
My Little Animators
Just a few shots of my students here in Denmark. All taken by someone with better photographic abilities than myself...
Mette H. from Aarhus and Stephan from Germany... "The footsteps of the Alps" he tells me.
Rasmus is about to get some very wise advice, I'm sure.
Jeannette... with an idea I guess.
Christian and Sylvester.
Israel. All the way across the Atlantic and I get a student from Mexico City. Huh.
Svend mit iPod.
Mette T. with Israel
Canal Camping in Camden
Thursday the 25th of January marked the first time I set foot in the city of London. I now love it very much.
I plan to tell a few stories from my time there, but for now I just want to make some introductions.
My hosts were Simon Tickner and his lovely lady Leslie. I met Simon in Miami last April where he was "worst man" in a mutual friend's wedding. I couldn't have had a better guide. The mutual friend was John Graham who happened to be in London the same time I was. More about that later.
Simon and Leslie live on a "narrow boat", a flat bottom canal boat moored in the central London neighborhood of Camden near Regents Park and the London Zoo. The boat was built in 1890 when it would've had no engine, instead being pulled by a horse on the bank, and the current main living quarters would've been and open cargo hold. It's since been enclosed and fitted with a steel body, given an engine, plumbing and electricity. There's a Chinese restaurant on the bank of the canal and a beautiful west facing view. More about the boat later.
I was offered the Boatsman's room in the back. The room measures about 10 feet by 4 feet and includes a bunk, and coal burning stove and not much else. And it was perfect. Every night, if I wanted a warm room when I put my head down, I had to go back and get the fire started in the stove an hour or two ahead of time to give it time to warm up in there. It was a little like camping in the middle of one of the most posh neighborhoods in London. I liked that a lot.
I spent most of my daytimes wandering parts of London in search of food and drink and art, and most of my nighttimes in the pubs of Brixton with Simon and his crowd. More on that later too.
For now I'll just say that I couldn't have had a better introduction to London, or better people to spend my it with. I'll be back.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
The Strange Origins of the Animation Workshop
There's the official history, which I have no doubt is all quite true. And then there's the untold story...
Yesterday, I finally got someone sat down long enough to tell me how all of this got started. "This" being the Animation Workshop, the school where I'm currently lucky enough to be teaching, and the "someone" being Michelle Nardone, the Director of the Bachelor Program here at the school. I've mentioned Michelle before... she's an American who grew up on the East Coast, spent time in Berkley and San Francisco, and a few different parts of Europe before landing here about 5 years ago.
I asked her over a Saturday afternoon beer how this began, and I think now that her part of the story starts somewhere in the middle of that official version. I'd say roughly 10 years ago, but I'm not sure. What I am sure of, is that the official telling doesn't mention British carpet baggers or the game squash. It also doesn't mention Morton Thorning.
Morton is the general director of the Animation Workshop. I haven't gotten a chance to get to know him much, but he seems like a very intelligent man, and very interesting too, though I think a lot of people back in Dallas would call him eccentric. At that screening party the other night, the topic came up of topless sunbathing, and the fact that some parts of Europe (Denmark included) see nothing strange about it, but that other parts might be a little shocked to see a bra coming off in a public park on a nice summer day. Morton seemed to think about it for a minute and then grabbed a small Danish flag off the table and fairly urgently said, "And this! This is the difference." Well put. He was pointing out the strange way that a border and a flag affect the way people live their lives and what's considered acceptable, and what's not. I mention this little episode to give you an idea what Morton is like. Or at least as good an idea as I have.
I knew Morton had a key role in the creation of this school, so I asked Michelle, "So, how did this all start? Morton?"
"Yes," she said, "So here's what happened..."
She went on to tell me that Morton had been a musician and a pretty successful one. He'd made a lot of money performing and touring, and things were going well. Then somewhere along the way, he had a disagreement with the Danish equivalent of the IRS. Sounds like they nailed him pretty hard for unpaid taxes, and following that he decided it was time to find a line of work that might be a little more stable for him. He started writing, and ended up on Danish radio reading stories he'd written. Don't you wish there was more of that in the U.S.?
Around this time the British boys enter the scene. Viborg is governed by something like a city council, and a pair of British "entrepreneurs" lobbied this council very persuasively that what Viborg, Denmark really needed was Squash courts.
(To be honest, she wasn't sure if it was Squash or maybe Racketball, or American Handball, but it was one of those sports with an small enclosed court. For the purpose of the story, let's say it was Squash, OK?)
The Brits convinced the City leaders to begin using some available property in Viborg to build these courts, and got a sizeable grant from them in the process. Then they promptly disappeared with the money. Obviously, the Danes weren't happy about this. They'd already built a bunch of small cube-like rooms for the courts and last fucking thing on earth they were going to use them for now was SQUASH!
Around this same time, I think someone must've been campaigning for more development of this Animation program that was still struggling to find space, and these Viborg officials decided those little square rooms would be perfect for animation! Of course!
Let me say again... they decided to give this space to the Animation Workshop because.... the rooms were the right size. (!?)
Now they needed someone to head up this school. Apparently some of them really enjoyed the on-air stylings of Mr. Morton Thorning. I imagine the conversation like this...
"Mr. Thorning? Yes, this is the King of Viborg."
"Hello your Majesty!"
"Listen, Morton, we here in V-town all really enjoy your radio stories, and we'd like you to come be the head of a new animation program here."
"But your highness, I don't know anything about animation!"
"Even so, you write very well, and you have a nice voice and we think you're the man for the job, what do you say?"
"But sir..."
"You'll be fine. Come around next week and we'll talk out the details."
I've gotten jobs I wasn't expecting to get before (including this teaching gig) but that had to be a strange feeling.
So Morton says 'Fuck it!' and heads for Viborg. He has enough sense to surround himself with a lot of good people who do know a thing or two about animation, eventually including Michelle and my benefactor in this adventure, David Tart. And the rest, as they say, is history.
I wanted to tell this story because the chain of events is so bizarre, but also because chains of events so often are. If this version of the story is true, then it seems fair to say that I wouldn't be halfway across the world having these great experiences if it weren't for some greedy British squash players, a hard-nosed Danish tax assessor, the adventurous spirit of a Danish musician and the strange logic of the King of Viborg.
Thing is, these kinds of random events happen all the time and have huge impacts on people's lives. I think people just don't acknowledge them unless it's really bad luck. Then there's a need for something to blame... some freak occurance that disrupted their otherwise well crafted life. I guess people also just look for rational reasons why things happen. I could just as easily say that my hard work in animation and my willingness to take a risk and come out here were the reason I'm here, but I know that's only half the truth. In the same way, I know that a lot of my successes and failures are part luck and part intent.
I'm understanding more and more that the only thing you can really do is try to make a good life for yourself, and be willing to take the good with the bad, knowing you don't have total control of your own life.
"When the world takes your money and gives you half-built Squash courts, make an art school out of them!" - The King of Viborg.
Sean
p.s. There is no King of Viborg
Yesterday, I finally got someone sat down long enough to tell me how all of this got started. "This" being the Animation Workshop, the school where I'm currently lucky enough to be teaching, and the "someone" being Michelle Nardone, the Director of the Bachelor Program here at the school. I've mentioned Michelle before... she's an American who grew up on the East Coast, spent time in Berkley and San Francisco, and a few different parts of Europe before landing here about 5 years ago.
I asked her over a Saturday afternoon beer how this began, and I think now that her part of the story starts somewhere in the middle of that official version. I'd say roughly 10 years ago, but I'm not sure. What I am sure of, is that the official telling doesn't mention British carpet baggers or the game squash. It also doesn't mention Morton Thorning.
Morton is the general director of the Animation Workshop. I haven't gotten a chance to get to know him much, but he seems like a very intelligent man, and very interesting too, though I think a lot of people back in Dallas would call him eccentric. At that screening party the other night, the topic came up of topless sunbathing, and the fact that some parts of Europe (Denmark included) see nothing strange about it, but that other parts might be a little shocked to see a bra coming off in a public park on a nice summer day. Morton seemed to think about it for a minute and then grabbed a small Danish flag off the table and fairly urgently said, "And this! This is the difference." Well put. He was pointing out the strange way that a border and a flag affect the way people live their lives and what's considered acceptable, and what's not. I mention this little episode to give you an idea what Morton is like. Or at least as good an idea as I have.
I knew Morton had a key role in the creation of this school, so I asked Michelle, "So, how did this all start? Morton?"
"Yes," she said, "So here's what happened..."
She went on to tell me that Morton had been a musician and a pretty successful one. He'd made a lot of money performing and touring, and things were going well. Then somewhere along the way, he had a disagreement with the Danish equivalent of the IRS. Sounds like they nailed him pretty hard for unpaid taxes, and following that he decided it was time to find a line of work that might be a little more stable for him. He started writing, and ended up on Danish radio reading stories he'd written. Don't you wish there was more of that in the U.S.?
Around this time the British boys enter the scene. Viborg is governed by something like a city council, and a pair of British "entrepreneurs" lobbied this council very persuasively that what Viborg, Denmark really needed was Squash courts.
(To be honest, she wasn't sure if it was Squash or maybe Racketball, or American Handball, but it was one of those sports with an small enclosed court. For the purpose of the story, let's say it was Squash, OK?)
The Brits convinced the City leaders to begin using some available property in Viborg to build these courts, and got a sizeable grant from them in the process. Then they promptly disappeared with the money. Obviously, the Danes weren't happy about this. They'd already built a bunch of small cube-like rooms for the courts and last fucking thing on earth they were going to use them for now was SQUASH!
Around this same time, I think someone must've been campaigning for more development of this Animation program that was still struggling to find space, and these Viborg officials decided those little square rooms would be perfect for animation! Of course!
Let me say again... they decided to give this space to the Animation Workshop because.... the rooms were the right size. (!?)
Now they needed someone to head up this school. Apparently some of them really enjoyed the on-air stylings of Mr. Morton Thorning. I imagine the conversation like this...
"Mr. Thorning? Yes, this is the King of Viborg."
"Hello your Majesty!"
"Listen, Morton, we here in V-town all really enjoy your radio stories, and we'd like you to come be the head of a new animation program here."
"But your highness, I don't know anything about animation!"
"Even so, you write very well, and you have a nice voice and we think you're the man for the job, what do you say?"
"But sir..."
"You'll be fine. Come around next week and we'll talk out the details."
I've gotten jobs I wasn't expecting to get before (including this teaching gig) but that had to be a strange feeling.
So Morton says 'Fuck it!' and heads for Viborg. He has enough sense to surround himself with a lot of good people who do know a thing or two about animation, eventually including Michelle and my benefactor in this adventure, David Tart. And the rest, as they say, is history.
I wanted to tell this story because the chain of events is so bizarre, but also because chains of events so often are. If this version of the story is true, then it seems fair to say that I wouldn't be halfway across the world having these great experiences if it weren't for some greedy British squash players, a hard-nosed Danish tax assessor, the adventurous spirit of a Danish musician and the strange logic of the King of Viborg.
Thing is, these kinds of random events happen all the time and have huge impacts on people's lives. I think people just don't acknowledge them unless it's really bad luck. Then there's a need for something to blame... some freak occurance that disrupted their otherwise well crafted life. I guess people also just look for rational reasons why things happen. I could just as easily say that my hard work in animation and my willingness to take a risk and come out here were the reason I'm here, but I know that's only half the truth. In the same way, I know that a lot of my successes and failures are part luck and part intent.
I'm understanding more and more that the only thing you can really do is try to make a good life for yourself, and be willing to take the good with the bad, knowing you don't have total control of your own life.
"When the world takes your money and gives you half-built Squash courts, make an art school out of them!" - The King of Viborg.
Sean
p.s. There is no King of Viborg
Monday, January 15, 2007
Insight Short and Boukha
(click me!)
I had a chance last night to attend a nice little party with some of the other animators that are working here at the Animation Workshop. Some are here to teach, like me. Others are here to work in the Open Workshop. That's another part of this school I haven't mentioned yet, and one of the most interesting parts. They've set up fairly nice facilities for people to come and work on personal projects, as well as living space while they're here. There are a certain number of spaces available, and there's an application process to be allowed to come and work here. It's a really great resource for a lot of independent artists.
But back to the party...
The reason for celebration was the screening of a short film one by an animator named Salvador Simo called Insight. It's a very nice piece about an old woman who lives on the street and the little girl who befriends her. I'm not sure when it will be available to watch, but there are a couple of render tests. Just follow the link.
The thing about this little party that was new for me was the multinational flavor of it. I've now worked with people from many places... from Peru, Korea, Holland, Australia, Brazil, Spain, Jordan, France, etc. But I usually don't end up interacting with all of them at once.
There's a certain kind of mental gear shifting that has to be done when you talk with someone from another culture, and another primary language. Talking with 20 students that are all from Scandinavia, is one thing. At least you have a common context of possible misunderstanding. I get a little exhausted making conversation at house parties and dinner parties anyway, but night had my head spinning.
My hosts were an Israeli couple named Uri and Mikal who are working in the open workshop on a 2d project (Mikal also has family ties in the U.S.). Michelle Nardone was to my right, she's an American who's been living in Denmark for a number of years now and is the Director of Bachelor Education. There was a girl named Maria who I believe is from Russia, or at least speaks Russian and is going there for school soon, a Swedish animator named Henrik who's here for the open workshop, another one of the directors of the school, Tim Leborgne, who's French, but who lived in Belgium for some time and his young daughter, another American animator named Todd who's here teaching but has lived in Turkey and other parts of Europe, the film maker himself Salvador who's from Barcelona, and another Spaniard who's a student here, two or three Danes from the school including the father of it all, Morton Thorning, and a couple of other people who showed up late and who's origins are still a mystery to me.
I felt a little like shutting up all night just so I wouldn't say something stupid in the midst of this little United Nations of Animation, and cause some miniature international incident. But everyone was really friendly, and it was a really nice evening. I got this feeling like I was looking around the table at representatives of the industry worldwide. It gives you a good sense that there's a big community out there in this little industry, and a lot of common ground all over the world.
We had Tahini, and wine and cake (I forgot to mention there were a couple of birthdays being celebrated as well). And I was introduced to something called Boukha. It's from Tunisia, and is probably best compared to ouzo, the Greek liqueur. Boukha is made from figs, and is not to be entered into lightly or on an empty stomach.
I hope to have more nights like that, and maybe one day I'll be a charter member of the UNoA!
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Philosophy I Can Love
At the beginning of my trip, I started through my first reading of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, by Robert Pirsig. It's my father's copy and it's a book I've wanted to read for a long time.
I didn't know much about the book, except that it's really more about philosophy than motorcycles, and that it was a 'journey' story, it seemed appropriate to me to read it on this trip. It also seemed to fit since I just bought my first old bike of my own. Well... it's an old scooter, but still.
Now that I'm about halfway through, it seems like an even better choice than I could've hoped. This is the longest amount of time I've ever spent away from home, and I'm expecting it'll change me a little... or a lot. I'm hoping it does.
I think I'll re-read this book many times before I die.
I didn't know much about the book, except that it's really more about philosophy than motorcycles, and that it was a 'journey' story, it seemed appropriate to me to read it on this trip. It also seemed to fit since I just bought my first old bike of my own. Well... it's an old scooter, but still.
Now that I'm about halfway through, it seems like an even better choice than I could've hoped. This is the longest amount of time I've ever spent away from home, and I'm expecting it'll change me a little... or a lot. I'm hoping it does.
I think I'll re-read this book many times before I die.
The New Vikings
Goddag!
I'm back in Viborg, Denmark to teach animation students at a small school here called The Animation Workshop. The school is a fantastically fresh and nurturing artistic environment. All week I've the feeling I had last time... wishing I'd had a chance to work or go to school at a place like this. All of the animation studios I've seen or heard about with these great laid back environments seem propped up... forced, and almost cult-like compared with the natural way that people seem to come together here. And my own Alma Mater The Art Institute of Dallas? That place might as well have been a cubical farm!
Part of it is the actual structure of place. There are work spaces for the students of course. Most are big, well appointed stations with animation drawing tables, flat screen monitors and digitizer tablets. But the communing happens in places like the big lounge/dining hall at the end of the building in which I'm teaching. They cook together and drink together and listen to music and even dance here.
The other thing that produces this feeling of community seems to be distinctly Danish... or maybe Scandinavian. Over and over I've heard people use the word cozy in a very positive tone, referring to bars they like, or maybe a party. I have in mind that it must be a result of having to escape the weather and darkness of the north and huddle together, getting along and making the most of the closeness. It feels good.
It's only 8 months after my first trip here, but it feels like a reunion for me. The first was in May, and lasted only a week. This time I'm here for over 8 weeks (6 weeks of actually teaching) and feel like it will be a much richer experience. I have time enough to get comfortable with my surroundings, which has never really happened in any of my other international trips (few as they've been).
Last night at that dinner with the students was the most insightful feeling yet. They're smart and open people. Even at their young ages (most of this class is still in their early 20s), they challenge me on the things I say, and they're hugely curious. They have strong opinions about the world, and are perfectly willing to share them.
It's stupid, but I can't help but think of them as the Vikings the Danes once were. I wonder if it's the same curiosity that made the Vikings such big time explorers. It also seems like these kids are a lot different than their parents. They're more connected to the rest of the world and they're ready to go see it and challenge it.
I hope they do.
I'm back in Viborg, Denmark to teach animation students at a small school here called The Animation Workshop. The school is a fantastically fresh and nurturing artistic environment. All week I've the feeling I had last time... wishing I'd had a chance to work or go to school at a place like this. All of the animation studios I've seen or heard about with these great laid back environments seem propped up... forced, and almost cult-like compared with the natural way that people seem to come together here. And my own Alma Mater The Art Institute of Dallas? That place might as well have been a cubical farm!
Part of it is the actual structure of place. There are work spaces for the students of course. Most are big, well appointed stations with animation drawing tables, flat screen monitors and digitizer tablets. But the communing happens in places like the big lounge/dining hall at the end of the building in which I'm teaching. They cook together and drink together and listen to music and even dance here.
The other thing that produces this feeling of community seems to be distinctly Danish... or maybe Scandinavian. Over and over I've heard people use the word cozy in a very positive tone, referring to bars they like, or maybe a party. I have in mind that it must be a result of having to escape the weather and darkness of the north and huddle together, getting along and making the most of the closeness. It feels good.
It's only 8 months after my first trip here, but it feels like a reunion for me. The first was in May, and lasted only a week. This time I'm here for over 8 weeks (6 weeks of actually teaching) and feel like it will be a much richer experience. I have time enough to get comfortable with my surroundings, which has never really happened in any of my other international trips (few as they've been).
Last night at that dinner with the students was the most insightful feeling yet. They're smart and open people. Even at their young ages (most of this class is still in their early 20s), they challenge me on the things I say, and they're hugely curious. They have strong opinions about the world, and are perfectly willing to share them.
It's stupid, but I can't help but think of them as the Vikings the Danes once were. I wonder if it's the same curiosity that made the Vikings such big time explorers. It also seems like these kids are a lot different than their parents. They're more connected to the rest of the world and they're ready to go see it and challenge it.
I hope they do.
How not to get to Denmark
Normally I'd say a flight across the Atlantic wasn't worth retelling, but my trip over was both the worst I've ever had, and a somewhat rewarding experience.
My plane was supposed to leave Dallas for Chicago at 6:13pm on the 4th of January, but due to weather in Chicago (heavy fog I think they said), our plane wasn't allowed to leave Dallas until close to 8pm. By the time we hit Chi town my connecting flight to Copenhagen was probably almost out over the water. This meant trying to find a new flight, and eventually meant sleeping on the floor of Chicago O'Hare International Airport Terminal A (It's more comfortable the benches for a guy my height, trust me).
In trying to find out what my options were, I ended up very naturally bonded to a young Guatemalan lady named Maria, and a middle aged Danish couple whose names I was told, but couldn't possibly remember. They had all three missed the same flight out, and shared my fate of sleeping at O'Hare. Maria, at least is a petite little thing and was able to curl up on a bench, but the others got the floor treatment, just like I did.
It's a situation wherein you've done nothing wrong, but can't help feeling like there's more you should do to try and get out of it, even when you've reached the logical end of what you can do. No one is really able to help you much and, at least the way things work right now, there's no accommodation for someone in this pinch. It sucks. And the only thing to do about it is wait, keep trying and try to laugh about it.
We did, and by morning we all had solutions to our travel woes of one kind or another. Mine would take me through Newark, while Maria ended up in Boston and Munich before getting back to Copenhagen and back to her studies at business school.
My plane was supposed to leave Dallas for Chicago at 6:13pm on the 4th of January, but due to weather in Chicago (heavy fog I think they said), our plane wasn't allowed to leave Dallas until close to 8pm. By the time we hit Chi town my connecting flight to Copenhagen was probably almost out over the water. This meant trying to find a new flight, and eventually meant sleeping on the floor of Chicago O'Hare International Airport Terminal A (It's more comfortable the benches for a guy my height, trust me).
In trying to find out what my options were, I ended up very naturally bonded to a young Guatemalan lady named Maria, and a middle aged Danish couple whose names I was told, but couldn't possibly remember. They had all three missed the same flight out, and shared my fate of sleeping at O'Hare. Maria, at least is a petite little thing and was able to curl up on a bench, but the others got the floor treatment, just like I did.
It's a situation wherein you've done nothing wrong, but can't help feeling like there's more you should do to try and get out of it, even when you've reached the logical end of what you can do. No one is really able to help you much and, at least the way things work right now, there's no accommodation for someone in this pinch. It sucks. And the only thing to do about it is wait, keep trying and try to laugh about it.
We did, and by morning we all had solutions to our travel woes of one kind or another. Mine would take me through Newark, while Maria ended up in Boston and Munich before getting back to Copenhagen and back to her studies at business school.
Spending this time with a sweet, cute little Guatemalan certainly made everything a lot easier to bear, and trying to help her figure out how to get past her own traveling troubles seemed to take my mind off my own... at least enough to take the stress off a little. Before I head back to the U.S. I'll spend a weekend in Copenhagen, and we're supposed to get together for a beer. I look forward to it!
Once I got to Newark Liberty Int'l, I was pretty much on my way, although, as anyone who's ever taken a transcontinental flight knows, 8 hours sharing an armrest and recycled air with a stranger in an uncomfortable seat leaves you with a special kind of gross, stiff, tired feeling that's hard to love. I was boarding the plane already covered with that particular layer of badness. I had no change of clothes or access to a shower. Not feeling my best.
I got to Copenhagen, and was rewarded with a fantastic cup of coffee and a croissant for 65 Danish Kroner (around $8). Much better than the fare offered by O'Hare or Liberty. I had this feeling of accomplishment, even though all I'd done was suffer for the decisions of some Air Traffic Control official. Still, I felt like I'd paid my dues getting to Europe this time around.
All I had left was a few hours in the Copenhagen Airport (a beautiful facility), a short hop to Karup, and a 20 minute taxi ride to my final destination - Viborg, Denmark where I was scheduled to teach 2nd year animation students for the next 8 weeks. Aside from one last hitch that caused my luggage to be 3 or 4 hours behind me, I was through it.
All told, my planned 18 hour trip to Viborg took about 40 hours and left me a memorable experience and a new friend. I don't regret any of it, but I do hope the story of the trip home isn't worth telling.
Once I got to Newark Liberty Int'l, I was pretty much on my way, although, as anyone who's ever taken a transcontinental flight knows, 8 hours sharing an armrest and recycled air with a stranger in an uncomfortable seat leaves you with a special kind of gross, stiff, tired feeling that's hard to love. I was boarding the plane already covered with that particular layer of badness. I had no change of clothes or access to a shower. Not feeling my best.
I got to Copenhagen, and was rewarded with a fantastic cup of coffee and a croissant for 65 Danish Kroner (around $8). Much better than the fare offered by O'Hare or Liberty. I had this feeling of accomplishment, even though all I'd done was suffer for the decisions of some Air Traffic Control official. Still, I felt like I'd paid my dues getting to Europe this time around.
All I had left was a few hours in the Copenhagen Airport (a beautiful facility), a short hop to Karup, and a 20 minute taxi ride to my final destination - Viborg, Denmark where I was scheduled to teach 2nd year animation students for the next 8 weeks. Aside from one last hitch that caused my luggage to be 3 or 4 hours behind me, I was through it.
All told, my planned 18 hour trip to Viborg took about 40 hours and left me a memorable experience and a new friend. I don't regret any of it, but I do hope the story of the trip home isn't worth telling.
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