100 Greatest Animated Shorts / A Man With His Dog Out For Air / Robert Breer
USA / 1958
Robert Breer, who sadly passed away in 2011, is included here as his work seems to me to be the most spontaneous animation ever created. Spontaneity is not something normally associated with animation. In fact animation is probably the least spontaneous art form imaginable. Even in most ‘straight ahead’ animation, known as the most spontaneous working method, of which I suppose Robert Breers films were an extreme example, after the initial rough sketches the process is pretty controlled. This is because In most animation, by necessity, every frame is carefully crafted and predicted to work in relation to the surrounding frames in the scene, as each scene is crafted to work in the context of the film. It has to be meticulously planned as its so labour intensive and therefore expensive. Animators as a breed are not accustomed to spontaneity, creating ideas on the fly, having conversations with other live humans, that kind of stuff ( I’m allowed to say that as Im an animator myself). Breer on the other hand liked to make unpredictable films, with his ‘What the hell will this look like’ methods (as he put it).
Breer was more a visual artist more than an animator, in fact due to his highly unorthodox approach he has been described as an ‘anti-animator’. He started making the kind of free form animation seen here in the mid fifties by the means of fast sketchy drawings on filing cards. Much influenced by the avant-garde; beat poetry, jazz, abstraction, ‘happenings’ and the new performance art, Breer incorporated these things into his films, his wide range of work also included mechanical devices, often used for showing his films in galleries.This was the era of the ‘beat generation’ and its experimentation with free form expressionist ‘stream of consciousness’ prose, poetry and painting, referred to as ‘underground’ due to its usual home in dark smoky cellars, hidden underneath the street level of mainstream life.
The idea behind this general philosophy of spontaneity was to tap into the subconscious, break free of the individuals’ ego and self-conscious pretence and reveal an inner truth. Although you could say it often created different forms of pretence and ego, a lot of the work from this era’s artists was interesting, important and influential and set off chain reactions that are still felt today. The work of certain animators at the time seemed to relate to this style and these artists were recognised by and loosely linked with this ‘beat generation’, Harry Smith would be one example and Robert Breer another, attracting the attention of high profile ‘beatnik’ figureheads of the time such as writer Alan Ginsburg. Both of these film-makers were of course, as most true artists are, quick to disassociate themselves with a phase in culture that would quickly become clichéd and out-dated.
Breer, like Harry Smith, had a career as a film maker spanning over fifty years, in which he moved through many new styles and influences and transcended the connection with the ‘beat generation’ to become recognised as a great of avant-garde animation. Breer started out as an engineer like his father but soon realised his interest was in art. His first serious work as an artist came, strangely, during a spell in the army, creating educational posters. He then used an Army bursary to travel to Paris where he took up painting and had several exhibitions. Inspired by the work of Man Ray and early abstract animators Oscar Fishinger, Fernand Leger and Walter Ruttman, Breer became frustrated with the static nature of painting and decided to experiment with movement.
“A Man and His Dog Out for Air” consists of quick sketches, mainly figurative line drawings of simple things encountered on a walk, clouds , birds, houses, until we see the subjects who are seeing all this, a man and dog. The film, similar to the spontaneity of the French ‘New Wave’ movement in live action films from around this time, celebrates the pleasure and possibilities of living in the moment. Never has Paul Klee’s comment that ‘drawing is taking a line for a walk’ seemed so apt.
Note: The 100 greatest animated shorts is an list of opinions and not an order of value from best to worst. All suggestions, comments and outrage are welcome but please don’t shoot us, it’s only a list!