THE ANIMATED WORLD OF McLAREN

Animation is not the art of drawings-that-move, but rather the art of movements-that-are-drawn. What happens between each frame is more important than what happens on each frame.

Therefore, animation is the art of manipulating the invisible interstices between frames.

--Norman McLaren

Although his name was not familiar to the general public, Norman McLaren, who died Jan. 27 at age 72, was one of the most innovative and influential artists in the history of animation. He received virtually every major film award, including one Oscar and two more nominations. Locally, his work was the subject of a retrospective at the County Museum of Art in 1981 and a tribute at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences in 1985.

Artists and film makers all over the world have paid tribute to his excellence and influence. Picasso described his films as “something new in the art of drawing.” Bruno Bozzetto (“Allegro non Troppo”) said McLaren’s films revealed to him “the possibilities animation offered.” George Dunning, director of the Beatles’ “Yellow Submarine,” called him “a great teacher (who) has awakened both artists and audiences to the medium.”

“I really got excited when I saw ‘Lines Horizontal’ and ‘Lines Vertical,’ when I was in school in India, and I decided I should do animation,” says Ishu Patel of the National Film Board of Canada, who received Oscar nominations for “Bead Game” (1978) and “Paradise” (1985).

“I really came to Canada through his films. His influence on me was primarily in the area of how to combine music and visuals effectively: That’s what he did the best, and that’s what my films reflect.”

A tireless experimenter and inventor of techniques, McLaren sought to strip away all non-essential trapping and explore the basic elements of animation and film making. His five-part series, “Animated Motions” (1976-78), analyzed, classified and illustrated all the types of motion available to the animator--accelerating, decelerating, regular, irregular, etc.

In “Hen Hop” (1942) and “Blinkity Blank” (1955), he drew, painted and scratched images directly onto the surface of 35mm film stock to create abstractions of color and line that joyously cavort across the screen--a technique he described as “camera-less animation.” He also produced synthetic sound tracks for many films by drawing the tiny patterns of lines the movie projector “reads.”

McLaren combined slow motion, regular-speed photography and step printing to transform the movements of dancers into ethereal, semi-abstract patterns in “Pas de Deux” (1967) and “Ballet Adagio” (1972). He demonstrated the artistic potential of pixilation, a stop-motion technique that involves live actors and life-size props, using it to illustrate the structure of a musical form (“Canon,” 1964) and tell a moving parable of human aggression (“Neighbors,” 1952).

But McLaren was acclaimed for the artistry and universal appeal of his films, rather than his technical virtuosity. He avoided narration (and any use of words, except in his wartime propaganda films) and communicated to his audience through image, color, sound and motion. Instead of using elaborately rendered characters, he sought to infuse personality into the simplest figures and even single lines.

Unlike most film makers, McLaren was never interested in pursuing big budgets. He believed that financial and technical limitations compelled an artist to rely on his imagination rather than on elaborate effects. Citing his Scottish origins, he took pride in using the fewest lines, the simplest equipment and the smallest budgets. He declined invitations to work at cartoon studios in the United States for large salaries. When a producer asked him to do special effects for a major feature, McLaren replied, “Sorry, I’m busy.”

Most of McLaren’s films were made at the National Film Board of Canada. In 1941, John Grierson invited him to establish an animation unit at the newly founded institution. McLaren initially declined, but accepted when Grierson promised complete artistic freedom--a promise he kept.

After three years of working and training artists in an abandoned sawmill, McLaren abandoned his administrative duties and devoted all his attention to film making. Artists from Europe, Asia and the United States were eager to work with Norman McLaren: They came to Montreal and helped make the film board the aesthetic leader in world animation.

McLaren’s private life was as quiet and ordinary as his films were imaginative. Soft-spoken and unassuming, he always seemed slightly embarrassed by the praise his work attracted. Eunice Macauley, the Oscar-winning co-director of “Special Delivery,” once remarked that it was often difficult to reconcile the “the quiet little man with the homemade yogurt on his cafeteria tray” with the brilliant creator of “Neighbors” and “Pas de Deux.” He also maintained a sense of humor about himself.

“Every once in a while, someone gets sick looking at my films,” he once said with a shrug, “and sometimes a little old lady will call me a communist because she doesn’t understand what I’m trying to do, but it’s all part of the business.”