Anthony Schepperd is an independent animator working in Philadelphia, whose work includes the visually mind-blowing music video, “The Music Scene.” He kindly spares his time for the Stanford Arts Review.
StAR: In the world of your music video “The Music Scene,” animals and television reign. Where did that concept come from?
Anthony Schepperd: The album art features a post-human New York City. I kept listening to the song and picturing the music playing out over the decrepit remains of humanity. I could see the animals roaming, not paying any attention, not being able to distinguish the music from any other series of noises. From there I began to feel like our technology would truly miss us. Our forms of entertainment and communication would sit around, dreaming of a day when people would be back to watch and listen.
StAR: How and where did you develop your craft? Are you self-taught? Did you attend an arts school?
AS: I learned to animate around the age of 11 at a summer camp taught by John Serpentelli, a college professor. He taught it along with his brother Mike, and they had this wild notion that the exact same things they were teaching 20-year-olds could be taught to 10-year-olds. They were right. We all picked it up quickly.
StAR: What drew you to animation?
AS: I had always been drawing—I was that kid. From as far back as I can remember, I had always been told I’d be an artist. I’d get the same 10-dollar art kit from every relative for every holiday. So, when I got the flyer for animation, an art form that I watched with such joy every Saturday morning, I jumped on it.
When puberty hit, my feelings toward animation changed. I wanted to be an adult and animation is not an adult art form–or, at least, according to the general public’s perception. From the age of 15 to 22, I saw animation as nothing other then a fallback plan if I couldn’t be a painter. Painters were the mature artists, and animators slaved in an assembly line in order to make toy commercials. This is upsetting to write, especially when I now know how wrong I was, but it’s truly how I felt.
It wasn’t until Ape School asked me to animate a music video that I got back into it. During the making of that video, I rediscovered animation as an art form. It was the small section in the middle, where the music falls apart into random static and noise, that I began to think about animation differently. While envisioning the animation to fit that section, something happened. The medium spoke to me in a way it hadn’t before. Animation suddenly allowed me to talk about how music makes me feel. When it came time for “The Music Scene,” I had a whole new attitude. Animation finally had a purpose for me, and all aspects of its perception (even if they are false) didn’t matter any more.
StAR: How would you describe your style?
AS: I am an expressionist and, often times, a surrealist. My method and product are tools to express how I feel in a moment-to-moment basis when listening to music. I mind the general tools of narrative storytelling, and I think they are helpful to sharing a mood and idea. But, in the end, I will throw it all out in order to allow the movements of animation to release my emotions and support the feelings of the music.
StAR: You seem to be really interested in breaking your characters and other elements of your videos into their basic, primary parts. What exactly are you trying to convey?
AS: In the Ape School video, there is a moment when the music falls apart into noise. It got me thinking about animation and its basic principals. It got me working on connecting any recognizable image to its principal parts. It’s important to be reminded that the story and its drawings are extensions of my train of thought. When a rabbit falls apart into colors and shapes, we get a glimpse of how I think about drawing a rabbit.
We get to experience that rabbit, not just as an animal with all the traits we have been taught about rabbits, but also as a drawing done by a person, and with it all the connections rabbits have to other aspects of the world according to that one individual. From just a design aspect, it allows animation to just be animation occasionally. It lets lines and shapes exist for their own right, instead of as a slave to a story. So, all in all, it’s about exploring the origins of art, emotionally and aesthetically.
StAR: Your work looks hand-drawn. Is all of it hand-drawn? Is anything computer-generated? How much of your work is a combination of the two techniques?
AS: All of my work is digital. I draw on a tablet connected to various 2D-animation programs. I particularly enjoy TVPaint.
StAR: Have you ever considered making an animated feature or short film? Why or why not?
AS: Music inspires movement, and animation is movement. Thats where I am as an artist. These music videos are my short films. However, I have had ideas, inspired by songs, that overgrow the source material. So, sure, I have considered making a feature. I would love to. But honestly, who is going to pay for that?
StAR: There is less emphasis on traditional 2-D animation today. What do you think about the rising trend of 3D animation in today’s animated films? Or… am I making this trend up?
AS: I have no problem with how people decide to make their films. If there is a 3D trend, then I hope the people working with it are satisfied with their chosen tool. I actually am more into what the high-end visual effects houses are doing with CG animation than what the animation companies are doing with it. High-end CG effects have allowed artists to lend realism to some incredibly abstract ideas. Occasionally, I’ll have a dream that is so real, yet so strange, that only high end industry 3D FX could possibly convey it correctly.
StAR: What advice would you give to aspiring animators?
AS: Don’t get frustrated by the role your art form plays in the general public. Find what it means to you and start working on making a niche. I abandoned animation for some time–and have always regretted it. Also, learn to enjoy the process in its entirety. If making a piece isn’t self-fulfilling in its own right, you’re in for a long and painful career.
For more of Anthony Schepperd’s amazing work, visit his Vimeo page at http://vimeo.com/anthonyschepperd
