You're Invited: Mad Hatter's Tea Party!

If you missed last year's Mad Hatter's Tea Party, here's your chance to join in on the festivities! Come to a very merry unbirthday this Saturday, APRIL 14--limited tickets now available to our Facebook and Twitter friends and followers. Enjoy cakes and other treats, and oh, some tea, just half a cup--if you don't mind! Come in costume or wear your very best hat--please keep in mind that this is a family-friend event, so costumes should be in good taste. 

Schedule of Events:

1:00pm in the Theater: Parade of Hats -- Show off your best chapeau // Costume Review -- Exhibit your character

3:00pm in the Special Exhibition Hall -- Tea is served // Prizes awarded and other delights!

Tickets are $45 for adults--$35 for children 10 years and younger--and can be purchased by e-mailing membership@wdfmuseum.org, or call 415-345-6810. 

Funny Little Bunnies: Happy Easter!

© Disney

In celebration of Easter today, we'd like to share this cel-setup from Walt Disney's 1934 Silly Symphony "Funny Little Bunnies"! Excerpted from Russell Merritt and J.B. Kaufman's Book, Walt Disney's Silly Symphonies: A Companion to the Classic Cartoon Series, this short subject cartoon features a "tour of a meadow filled with rabbits readying their wares for Easter.  A group of confectioners prepare candy eggs, chocolate rabbits, and other delicacies while an assembly line of hens produces a supply of fresh eggs, painted by rabbits with colors taken directly from the rainbow.  The visit ends with another crew rabbits loading giant Easter baskets with their brightly colored cargo." "Funny Little Bunnies" ended up winning the gold medal award for Best Animated Film in 1934 at the Venice Film Festival. 

Happy Easter!

Look Closer: Women in the Disney Ink and Paint Department during the 1930s and ‘40s

Go back in time with me to the 1930s and ‘40s, when the Disney Studio was experiencing its Golden Age, and men and women were relegated to very specific roles in the animated film process.  If you were a man blessed with both creativity and artistic talent, you held a spot in the Animation Department, but if you were a woman with the same skills, the only department open for you at that time was the Ink and Paint.  This type of job restriction could be found not only at Disney but at every other studio of that kind, for as Patricia Zohn states in her Vanity Fair (March, 2010) article, “Coloring the Kingdom,” animation was considered a man’s medium.   

Two women of the Ink & Paint Department at the Hyperion Studio. © DisneyThis was made clear in an early Disney employment brochure as well as in the letter a female would likely receive if she were inquiring about a job beyond that of a secretary:  “Women do not do any of the creative work in connection with preparing the cartoons for the screen, as that work is performed entirely by young men… The only work open to women consists of tracing the characters on clear celluloid sheets with India ink and filling in the tracings on the reverse side with paint according to directions.” 

Much has been written about the amazing work produced by the men in the Disney Animation Department during its Golden Age, particularly the revered Nine Old Men, but it was the unsung women in Ink and Paint who also played an invaluable role in the creation of those early animated films.  Every drawing produced by the animators and intended for film eventually found its way to the hands of these talented “girls,” as they were often referred to.  With their perfect pen and brush strokes and careful applications of vibrant color, the approximately 100 women of Ink and Paint skillfully prepared the celluloid sheets, or cels, before they were photographed for production. 

The working lives of these talented and dedicated young women- most under the age of 25-who helped produce such classics as Bambi, Pinocchio, and Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs was the focus of last month’s Look Closer series.   Over 140 visitors to the Museum from March 23rd to the 25th, gathered in gallery 3 to hear Museum educators talk about the unique working conditions experienced by the women in Ink and Paint, the repetitive and highly precise work demanded of them, and the friendly and romantic relationships they formed as a result of the Studio environment. 

Among the details most interesting to the audience was the fact that inkers were considered the “queens” of the department.  Their steady hands not only had to trace the animators’ pencil lines exactly but also had to capture the feeling of what the animators were intending in the scenes.  Inkers used the thinnest nibs available to apply India ink to the cels and preferred being assigned characters like Pluto and Goofy to trace, since those long, lean figures required fewer strokes of the pen.  (An example of their impressive work can be found in the Ink and Paint display case in gallery 3.)

Painters had their own set of challenges:  apply color exactly within the lines traced by the inkers and work quickly so the paint didn’t leave streaks.  The paint, of which they had hundreds of shades, was made in the Studio laboratory adjoining the building.  In the early years when operations were located on Hyperion Avenue, paints were given numbers to designate the different shades.  Later, after the Studio moved to the current Burbank location, paints were occasionally named after individuals, and it was a special honor for a woman in Ink and Paint to be associated with a particular color.  (Some of the paint jars in gallery 3 bear labels with the name of a character or an item in a scene for which the color was intended.  The display case contains examples of “color keys,” which directed the painters as to where to apply the paint.) 

Guests at the Look Closer presentations also appreciated hearing about the two “Tea Times” women in Ink and Paint enjoyed daily- breaks during which a uniformed maid served tea and the occasional special treat such as Lorna Doones.  In her lengthy article, Zohn comments that these women always dressed fashionably, coming to work in dresses, pearls and heels or high-waisted pants and slip-ons, which were made acceptable by Katherine Hepburn.  Over time they were required to wear silky pongee smocks to prevent particles from their clothing from falling onto the cels.  Thin, white cotton gloves were also worn to protect the cels; the women customized these gloves by cutting off the thumb and first two fingers on their working hand. 

Though the women in Ink and Paint and the men in Animation were not encouraged to mingle- on one of the gallery 3 audios painter Betty Kimball recalls their not being allowed in Animation without good reason- there were many chances for casual interactions.   Close relationships developed between the sexes, and many of them resulted in marriage, the most famous being that of Walt and Lillian.  Once the Disney Company moved to Burbank, Ink and Paint was located further away from the other departments, and was soon referred to as “the Nunnery.”  But though the casual interactions of the past discontinued, the men and women still managed to get together.  One rival studio’s press release claimed that Disney was a “romantic paradise for young women employees… for the amount of studio romances and marriages far exceeds that of any other studio.”

Tea times and encounters with men aside, the life of a young woman in Ink and Paint could be exhausting as she worked double shifts to meet deadlines and strained her eyes to help complete the thousands of cels required for production.  She also didn’t make very much money, at least compared to an animator ($18 per week in 1941 vs. $300 for a top animator), and often had to rise at 4:40am to ride a bus or streetcar to make it to the Studio by 9:00am.  But though the job took a toll on both their physical and personal lives, the women in Ink and Paint repeatedly said that they loved what they did and considered it a privilege to work for Disney.  Zohn’s article ends with a quote from painter Claudia Hubley Thompson who says, “The idea of working at Disney’s was just the end, the very end.”

Mary Beth Culler

Museum Educator

Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo: The Roots of Cinderella

As Cinderella is now playing at The Walt Disney Family Museum throughout the month of April, Disney historian and author J.B. Kaufman has written this piece on the making of this classic film, exclusively for Storyboard. 

An original poster for Cinderella's first theatrical release. © Disney

Disney fans know that Walt Disney’s animated feature Cinderella was released to theaters in 1950, more than a decade after his breakthrough feature Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. What is less well known is that Walt turned his filmmaking attention to the Cinderella story—on two separate occasions—beforetackling the story of her fairy-tale cousin Snow White.

The first Disney version of Cinderella was produced in 1922, at the beginning of Walt’s career, when he and his friends were producing their earliest animated cartoons at the Laugh-O-gram studio in Kansas City. The Laugh-O-grams were silent one-reel cartoons, “modernized fairy tales” that used traditional children’s stories as a springboard for satiric gags, Jazz Age references, and intertitles that indulged in puns and other verbal humor. By the time Walt and his pals had given a story the Laugh-O-gram treatment, it usually bore scant resemblance to the traditional version. Cinderella was a good example. In the Laugh-O-gramCinderella, the Prince (“who was a wonderful fellow”) was introduced on horseback, hunting bears—and rudely interrupting a party, where the bears were seen listening and dancing to hot jazz. Cinderella herself, wearing a short flapper skirt, went to the ball in a Tin Lizzie, chauffeured by her pet cat.

But even in this satiric adaptation, the Cinderella story retained some of its inherent romance. At the ball, while the other guests descended in a mob on the free eats, Cinderella and her Prince ventured out to the balcony for a romantic interlude in the moonlight. Walt and the other artists, even working in the simple graphic style of their earliest films, took pains to provide the young lovers with a charming atmosphere. The moon, observing their silhouetted forms with a smile, winked knowingly at the camera. Cinderella’s cat and the Prince’s dog, too, fell under the romantic spell of the moment. At film’s end, when the Prince relocated Cinderella and declared his love, the couple’s pets were likewise reunited.

In fact, it’s worth noting that most cartoon producers, even when mercilessly poking fun at the Cinderella story, have allowed some moments of sentiment to remain in their versions. (Even that inveterate prankster Tex Avery included a tender interlude in his 1938 short Cinderella Meets Fella.) Something about the tale seems to have inspired the most fun-loving artists to respect the romance at its heart.

© DisneyIn any case, by the time Walt returned to Cinderella in 1933, he had gained enough experience and confidence to attempt a cartoon version that openly pictured the beautiful and romantic aspects of the tale. By 1933, of course, he had traveled a long road from his Laugh-O-gram days. Relocated and now well established in Hollywood, Walt had pioneered the use of sound, and later Technicolor, in animated cartoons, and had gone on to achieve a sensational worldwide success with Mickey Mouse and a parallel cartoon series, the Silly Symphonies. The Symphonies, in particular, had dramatically expanded the scope of animated cartoons on the screen. Audiences, long conditioned to expect only slapstick and wisecracking humor in cartoons, were now treated to a delightful series of pictures that offered beauty, charm, subtle wit, and appealing characters along with the comedy.

In December 1933 the Disney story department announced that it was starting work on a new Silly Symphony: Cinderella. Following standard practice, the department circulated a story outline throughout the studio, inviting the entire Disney staff to contribute ideas for story and gags. The director would be Burt Gillett, who had directed the smash hit Silly Symphony Three Little Pigs earlier in the year; the music would be composed by Frank Churchill, who had written “Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?” for Pigs and who would contribute so much memorable music to other Disney films. The outline made its priorities clear: this cartoon Cinderella would exploit “every possible opportunity for comedy, provided it will not disturb the main thread of the story.”

Concept art by Mary Blair. © DisneyThe main thread of the story was unmistakably romantic. One of the devices suggested by the writers is particularly striking today: at the ball, as Cinderella danced with the Prince, the palace background would fade away and the lovers would appear to be dancing on the clouds, oblivious to their surroundings. Studio artists responded enthusiastically to this idea; effects-animation wizard Cy Young offered some ambitious ideas for effects that would transform the dream cloudscape into a spectacularly beautiful setting for the dance. Other writers and artists chimed in with ideas of their own, rich in cartoon gags but also long on charm and atmosphere. Today these suggestions are preserved in a thick file at the Walt Disney Archives.

In the end, this Silly Symphony version of Cinderella was abandoned. We don’t know precisely why, but we do know that by December 1933 Walt was seriously thinking about a feature-length animated film, and that he had already selected Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs as his story. During the course of 1934 he would start working with his writers to develop the story of Snow White, and some evocative story ideas, so recently suggested for Cinderella, would find their way onto the Snow White storyboards. In turn, story development for Snow White continued over the next several years, and generated such a wealth of inspired ideas that only a fraction of them could be used in the feature. When Walt turned his attention back to Cinderella after the war—this time as a feature film—these unused story ideas were still available for use, and some of them turned up in the new feature.

This month, then, as we revisit the classic Disney feature Cinderella, we may reflect that the story has deep roots in Disney studio tradition—roots that go back to the beginning of Walt’s career, and are inextricably intertwined with some of his other classic films.

J.B. Kaufman is a film historian on staff for the Walt Disney Family Foundation, staff writer/researcher at The Walt Disney Family Museum, and a leading expert on Disney animation and silent film. 

On Sunday April 15 at 3:00pm, join Oscar®-winning director and Disney expert Ralph Eggleston for Cinderella Style: The Evolution of Disney Animation, where he will discuss the evolving design sophistication of Disney animation--and specifically the post-war streamlining and innovations brought to the fore with the production of Cinderella. Not simply focusing on the art, Eggleston will also provide an understanding of the cultural context that helped shape Cinderella, and its impact on Walt's subsequent animation production. Illustrated with rare art, photos, and film clips, this program offers insight into Walt's effort to again make his Studio the reigning force in feature animation. 

Walt Disney’s Cinderella screens daily through April at 1:00pm and 4:00pm (except Tuesdays, and April 14, 15, and 28). Further program information and tickets are available at the Reception and Member Service Desk at the Museum, or online by clicking here.

What Do YOU Do, Jeff Ino??

Each month, we ask a Museum staffer to answer five questions about their position at the Museum, their fondest Disney memories, and personal tidbits. In celebration of Volunteer Appreciation Month this April--for the first time ever--we're highlighting one of our amazing volunteers here at The Walt Disney Family Museum! Without further ado, we'd like to ask Jeff Ino... What do YOU do??

Jeff, as seen here in his workspace!WDFM: What is your title and what do YOU do here at the museum? 

I am a volunteer and a member at the museum. Living only a short distance from San Francisco, the museum was open for almost a year before I knew of its existence and I wanted to help get the word out so that others would come out and enjoy this amazing place. So now, as a volunteer, I enjoy getting out into the community and doing outreach for the museum. From local events here in the city to Disneyland, Walt’s Barn in Griffith Park, the Aulani in Hawaii or in Marceline, MO where Walt Disney spent his early childhood years, my goal is to increase the awareness of the WDFM to those who do not know about us or who cannot easily get to us for a visit. Any opportunity to meet with people and to share a little bit of our museum with them is special. I also try to come in and volunteer a couple of times a week because there is always something new to discover or something I didn’t notice the time before.

WDFM: What is your fondest Disney memory OR what is your favorite gallery at the Walt Disney Museum and why?

To choose just one memory is difficult. I have so many great Disney memories, but the ones that I cherish and am most fond of revolve around times spent with my mother, before she passed away, when I was just a boy. Like most, Disney was a huge part of my childhood. From the earliest time I can remember, we used to read Disney books, watch The Wonderful World of Disney on Sunday evenings, go see all the classic movies and listen to the music. Often while strolling through the galleries, especially 4, 5 and 7 I am reminded of those very special times I spent with her and these are the moments that make everything come full circle for me.

WDFM: How does your job communicate and interpret the legacy of Walt Disney?

As a volunteer we get to learn so many things about the legacy of Walt Disney, the man, and not just the brand that he created. To be able to share that with visitors is rewarding. The museum itself is a place of wonderment and inspiration and most everyone who comes to visit either has an amazing story to share or a great experience to take home with them. To be able to stand back and observe someone re-living their childhood memories while gazing at a movie clip or looking at an exhibit is something words cannot justify and you are reminded of what a privilege it is to be a small part of what goes on here and it is truly humbling.

WDFM: Describe your workspace OR your favorite item on your desk: 

My workspace is a little unique, because there is a car sitting in the middle of it. I recently designed and built an office that’s center piece is a car. Not a toy car, but an actual car. A vehicle, as it turns out, that is akin to the car that inspired 1967, New Tomorrowland, Autopia cars created by Bob Gurr. Recently, I even got to have a nice conversation about it with the Disney Legend himself. Along with the car is a fair amount of Disney Memorabilia, from an old, vintage rubber plane with Mickey Mouse in it, to newer gift shop items from our very own WDFM. There are lots of cool and modern things in there too, but it is the nostalgic pieces of it all that makes it so special. And as a Graphic Artist, I don’t have to look very far to find inspiration!

WDFM: Tell us a little known fact about you!

One thing that most people don’t know about me is that I am an amateur chocolatier and a baker. I’ve been cooking since I was about 6 years old and enjoy being in the kitchen whenever I get the chance. As a creative type, dare I say… artist, I am always looking for different ways to express myself. I’ve been doing chocolate for about 10 years now and love experimenting with different ingredients and mediums to use with it. It’s amazing how many people like you when you have chocolate or cookies around… haha!

Would you--or do you knwo of someone who would--like to volunteer at The Walt Disney Family Museum to help share the history of animation, film, and the life and legacy of Walt Disney with guests from around the world? Complete our Volunteer Interest Form available here  to schedule your interview for Spring!