Posts Tagged ‘video’
This is one of my favorite Sesame Street videos. The song totally sticks in my head.
Plus, at 1.01, if you watch the lower right corner of the screen, Jim Henson’s head flashes for a moment. First time I’ve seen that.
PuppetVision Blog pointed out that Cookie Monster was on NPR yesterday. There’s a long tradition of puppet characters appearing on radio, but we are lucky that the wise folk at NPR also made a short video of Cookie answering the famous Proust Questionnaire.
You can listen to the whole interview at the same link. “C” is for cookie. That’s good enough for me.
I gave my nephew the first book in the Strongbow Saga and the moment he finished it, he made his dad go to the bookstore to get book two. He’s been whining, wondering when book three would come out.
Here’s the answer.
When I was in college, we were shown this very early example of animation. Made in 1918, Winsor McCay wanted to show the horror of Lusitania’s sinking. I was talking with a friend about it and she’d never seen it so I hit the wonders of YouTube. Behold! I hadn’t seen this newsreel with making-of footage that goes with it.
PuppetVision Blog pointed out this stunning video by Richard Teschner. There are a couple of things you need to understand before watching this short film. It was filmed in 1916, so it is very early cinema. It is also not stop-motion. Both of those things are cool. What is significant though is that Richard Teschner is credited with adapting Javanese rod puppetry for the western world. Before him, you saw marionettes and hand puppets but nothing else. His work was quite revolutionary. I’ve seen photos of his puppets for ages and have been captivated by the sheer artistry of them. This film is the first time I have ever seen them in motion. I would love to see a better print, because even in this the delicacy of movement is beautiful. Despite the lack of dialog, you can feel Joseph’s tenderness to Mary as fully as if he were delivering monologues. It is easy, oh so easy, to see why Teschner’s work changed everything for western puppetry.
Hello, learning curve, my old friend.
I have some video of the boat, but am a wee bit tired so I’m heading to bed since I don’t have any direct questions about it. I really do need guidance on the tentacles though.
Talk to you soon!
I sometimes tell people that I had a Norman Rockwell upbringing. Our Christmas tradition explains it. For over fifty years, my extended family gathers at Woodthrush Woods, the house that my dad’s parents built, for Christmas dinner. The number of guests ranges from 20-35 people, and we hoot and carry on. First Robby (my namesake for Robinette), and now my mother cook a enormous meal and trot out the good china and set a fine table. Multiple tables, actually, at this point.
After dinner, we all pull our chairs into the living room, and sit in a big circle. One of the cousins goes to the piano, while we pass out songbooks. Then we sing. We sing Christmas carols and call out the page number of the ones we most want to hear. I tend to ask for The Holly and the Ivy, because it was Robby’s favorite, and I miss her. At the end of the night, the last thing we do is sing the Twelve Days of Christmas. Dad divvies up the parts, so each day is taken by a different group. We get sillier and sillier as the song goes on, trying to act out different parts of the song. The maids a-milking can get pretty funny, I’ll tell you.
Eric James Stone just pointed out this version of the Twelve Days. What do you think, Mom and Dad? Care to try this Christmas Eve?
In Chattanooga, when we go to visit my cousins on Signal Mountain, we always pass this spaceship. Seriously. Well, okay, it’s a house shaped like a space ship, but still.
There’s an article online about it, which includes this handy video showing the inside of the Spaceship House. I’d always wondered about it.
Clearly, I’m going to have to rewrite all my spaceship sf to include shag carpeting.
This is beautifully animated, but there’s one detail which makes me go a little buggy. Watch the baby’s eyes. They are so real, compared to the rest of the figure, that it edges into the uncanny valley.
This is a problem that crops up in a lot of different forms of world creation, from set design, to animation to straight puppetry. If you have one element that seems totally real, it makes everything else seem strange. But if everything is stylized in the same manner, then you accept that visual vocabulary. For instance, no one complains that they can’t see all the fur on the Beast in Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. But if a real dog wandered through the scene, the entire world would look flat and the dog would look strange. It’s uncanny.
I’ve got some video for you to show how quickly things can go.