Michael Sporn Animation – Splog

– While in Ottawa, I came across Chris Robinson’s most recent book, Between Genius and Utter Illiteracy – A Story of Estonian Animation. This is released by John Libbey Publishing through the Indiana University Press in the U.S. There’s an excellent, in depth review at AWN, and, since I haven’t yet read the book, I don’t intend to review it now.

I’m glad Chris has written it since I think it’s a subject worth visiting. The Estonians have been producing films for many years, and I’m glad for them to get a bit of attention.

Aside from their own films, they’ve also been doing some outsourcing work for other European studios. Since the fall of the Soviet Union, they’ve actually become one of the dominant producers of animation in Russia.

The book focuses on a few particular artists in their history.

- Now let me tell you something about me. Back in my days of Raggedy Ann, 1976, I was contacted by a friend from my Navy years. He was a Russian interpreter working for Columbia Management in NY. He toured with Russian groups (such as the Bolshoi Ballet) around the US interpreting for them.

He had in his charge two Russian animators and thought they might get a kick seeing a studio. Since I understood a bit – a very little bit – of Russian, I might be able to help. A little adventure.

I asked Richard Williams if we could tour the studio on a Saturday, and he said absolutely not. He didn’t want Russians in his studio. OK. Faith & John Hubley were out of town, so we couldn’t go there. Howard Beckerman‘s small studio was in the same building as Raggedy Ann, and he said yes.

On a very cold January day, they met us, and we went up to visit the two colorful rooms of Howard’s small studio. The animators were delighted, and we had a good hour or so.
The animators were Svyatozar Rusakov and Rein Raamat.
Rusakov was from Soyuzmultfilm and had created the most popular series of children’s films in Russian animation history – the Nu Pogodi series.
Raamat was from Estonia and spoke Russian haltingly (something we had in common.) However, he told me he’d recognized my name from the few Hubley films he’d seen. I’d gotten credit, and they played in Russia.

Having a car, I offered to take them wherever else they wanted to go in New York.

Svyatozar Rusakov wanted to go to Delancey Street and buy lots of jeans that he could bring back and sell for a lot of money. After returning him and his black-market goods to the hotel, we picked up Rein Raamat. He wanted to go to the Museum of Modern Art to see a particular Modigliani painting in person. He told me he’d never seen any of his actual paintings just prints. Modigliani was his favorite painter. We did that.

As Rein came face-to-face with the painting, he stopped in shock. Tears came down his face, and I knew I liked this man. After he returned to Estonia, I sent him a coffe-table book on Modigliani; he sent me a book on Bosch and some tour guides of Estonia. We exchanged a number of letters – both of us wrote in our pigeon-Russian. I met him at several film festivals. A couple of years ago he sent me a sad note that he was no longer drawing as the head of the studio, and he wasn’t as happy. I hope to meet him again someday.

In preparing this, I noticed on IMDB’s report that Svyatozar Rusakov died in August. I’m sorry to hear that.

I was pleased to see a whole chapter in Chris Robinson’s book devoted to Rein Raamat. I had a short, interesting conversation with Chris about Rein. Now I’d like to read the book.

(All pictures can be enlarged by clicking.)
#1. L to R: (in Beckerman’s studio) Richard Mayer (interpreter), Maxine Fisher, Svyatozar Rusakov, Howard Beckerman, Rein Raamat.
#2. L to R: Rein Raamat, me, Richard Mayer, Maxine Fisher
#3. L to R: Svyatozar Rusakov, me, Richard Mayer
#4. L to R: (outside) Rein Raamat, Svyatozar Rusakov, Maxine, and me.

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