Patricia Beckmann Wells: a ‘fan of poetry told through moving images’

I think animation is a very truthful way to express your thoughts, because the process is very direct . . . You go from the idea to execution, straight from your brain. It’s like when you hear someone playing an instrument, and you feel the direct connection between the instrument and his brain, because the instrument becomes an extension of his arms and fingers. It’s like a scanner of the brain and thought process that you can watch, or hear.
 – Michel Gondry, French indie director, screenwriter, and producer

Patricia and her son, PT, in the Los Angeles Contemporary Museum of Art's rain room, site of the Los Angeles International Children's Film Festival.

Patricia and her son, PT, in the Los Angeles Contemporary Museum of Art’s rain room, site of the Los Angeles International Children’s Film Festival.

Before Patricia Beckmann Wells’s “Family Tale” premiered at the Los Angeles International Children’s Film Festival in December 2015, she posted on the Adoptive Families Facebook page about the animated short film’s subject of building a transracial family: “It documents the story of a young family who lost their own biological children, but found love by getting on the roller coaster of adoption. This journey led them to embrace open adoption, which in turn led to its own wonderful and unexpected results. It exists as our son’s story, so he can have record of what led him to join us.” “Family Tale” was also an official selection of this year’s LUNAFEST film festival, which premiered this past September.

She recognized that animation was the best media to tell her story and to personalize her story of adoption. “The audience did not judge me as a face with bias, but were presented with my interior,” she explained. “It was easier for them to identify with the pictures as symbolism than with a human face they may not have liked.”

Still from the short film, "Family Tale."

Still from the short film, “Family Tale.”

Indeed, Patricia shared how her film gave her insight into a larger story. “Somehow that film melted the cold exterior off of strangers,” she said. “I met many, many people with similar stories, and made many friends. It is remarkable how many people have suffered alone with a pain that was taboo to discuss. Usually a quarter of my audience identifies. I have chatted for hours with folks after the film. And have a new world view now.”

Still from "Family Tale."

Still from “Family Tale.”

Animator, professor, author
Patricia earned her Master of Fine Arts in Cinema and her EdD. in Educational Psychology and Leadership from the University of Southern California (USC). As a tenured professor, she teaches animation, game/toy design, virtual reality production and emerging technologies at Irvine Valley College in Irvine, Calif. She has also authored several publications on emerging technologies and art.

Patricia with her animated class and her animations!

Patricia with her animated class and her animations!

Being an animator, professor, and author have all shaped her as filmmaker. Animation suits her preference for being able to work alone and at her own fast pace, and for the way her creativity evolves. “There is creative power in daydreaming and low-stress experimentation,” she pointed out. “A line can lead to a doodle, leading to a truth that only comes from looking sideways at an upside-down thought.” In the college classroom, Patricia has gotten to know a diverse group of students. “This gives me stories,” she said. “All three [animator, professor, author] are just who I am – a sincere fan of the poetry told by moving image,” she said, simply.

Still from "Family Tale."

Still from “Family Tale.”

Navigating the animation industry
Patricia had previously worked on several movies as an animator for Warner Brothers Digital and other film companies. While she was Manager of Shorts Development at Film Roman, three of her entries won the Playboy Animation Festival in 2000. Soon after, she was tapped to develop content for Oxygen Media, the Romp, and Playboy. Later, she was in charge of training as an executive at Walt Disney Animation studios, and as Head of Training assisted Dreamworks SKG in building production studios in India, but it came at a price. “I got distracted by taking on a managerial role in the big animation studios, and lost the time required to develop new ideas,” she said.

Patricia Beckmann Wells, at home.

Patricia Beckmann Wells, at home.

Since becoming a professor, Patricia is able to work on her own ideas, but can only dedicate five months a year for a creative project because of her teaching schedule. “Ideas are mulling all the time, but they pop into production when all of the inspirations and tools present themselves,” she said. “I don’t take on commercial work anymore because there are much more talented artists than me out there who deserve the work, and I want to be free to be creative.”

The animation industry has seen an explosion of talent, but while it has evolved, centralized power and gender disparity still exist. Techtopus, recent lawsuits in which the animation industry tries to control and blacklist talent, is still affecting animation, and few women hold creative leadership, according to the Geena Davis Institute on Gender and Media. “I work alone. I doodle, think, and keep on. My animation heroes are all indie,” she affirmed. “The story is the thing, not the method (which currently happens to be animation), and I am so happy there are many more outlets for media than there were 20 years ago.” With the indie movement firmly entrenched in the industry, she declared, “We do not need to join studios any more.  As a professor, I am in a perfect position to keep making my stories while encouraging new voices to speak as well.  Emerging media is creating new outlets for creativity daily.”

Still from the film, "Don't Cry."

Still from the film, “Don’t Cry.”

Having faith in indies
Patricia is currently in production for “Don’t Cry,” with soundtrack by Boston-based ska punk band Big D and the Kids Table. The film, which is expected to be released in summer 2017, explores a mother’s unconditional love for her adopted son and how she will influence his own family. Patricia is also developing a comedy series “motivated by subtly educating people about the science of global warming,” a science-fiction film about the outsider and education, virtual reality experiments, and educational shorts created for her son.

She hopes that audiences who see her films “leave with faith in the little guy.” “Independent film has an authentic voice and usually just one writer,” Patricia said. “I hope I get better and better and eventually can tell a story that wraps people up in a peaceful blanket of my heart, smothers them with kisses, and leads them back into the world drunk with love.”

Note: You can see Patricia’s short film at LUNAFEST East Bay’s screening on Saturday, March 18th, 7:30pm, at the El Cerrito High School’s Performing Arts Theater. For more information, click here.

Alumni Journal Q&A in Syracuse University Magazine

There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.
– Maya Angelou, American poet, memoirist, actress, and American Civil Rights Movement leader, from I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

I received my fall/winter 2016, vol. 33, number 3 issue of the Syracuse University Magazine in the mail today. In late summer I was interviewed by associate editor Amy Speach for a Q&A in the Alumni Journal section of the magazine. The Q&A is in the current issue.

Fall/Winter 2016, Vol. 33,no. 3.

Fall/Winter 2016, Vol. 33,no. 3.

The full-page Q&A.

The full-page Q&A.

You can access the online version here. Thanks to Amy for a great interview. And thanks to my alma mater, the Creative Writing Program, and mostly to my amazing classmates and writers. One day, I shall return.

Theresa Moerman Ib: understanding the world through the artist’s lens

A man is not dead because you put him underground.
– Graham Greene, English novelist, short story writer, playwright, screenplay writer, and critic, from The Third Man (original screenplay)

Theresa Moerman Ib

Theresa Moerman Ib (photo credit: Richard Warden).

The above quote opens Theresa Moerman Ib‘s documentary, “The Third Dad,” about her journey to find the grave of her alcoholic father, from whom she had been estranged for 10 years and who had died seven years earlier. The Glasgow-based multimedia artist wove archival family photos and home movies with new materials, overlain with a haunting soundtrack, to tell the story of how her memories of her father and the questions swirling around his death keep him very much alive in her heart, mind, and art. The short film has won several awards and was chosen as an official selection by more than 15 film festivals around the world, including LUNAFEST.

Confronting death and grief head-on
In October before a full house, shortly after the LUNAFEST premier in San Francisco, Theresa participated in a post-screening discussion at the Scottish Mental Health Arts & Film Festival. The festival, she said, “is keen to encourage openness and conversation on difficult topics.” After the screening, several people approached her to share their stories of having to cope with an alcoholic parent. “It made them feel less alone,” said Theresa, who was moved by the experience. “I think films have the power to do that.”

A different way of looking at her father, in a still from "The Third Dad."

A different way of looking at her father, in a still from “The Third Dad.”

She hopes that film festivals take on more films that deal with death and grief. “No one will go through life without losing someone they love, either due to illness, accident or age,” she pointed out. “And we’re all mortal – so talking about our fears and scars make them seem less ominous. We don’t feel so isolated in our struggles.”

A blurry memory of Theresa as a child in a still from "The Third Dad."

A blurry memory of Theresa as a child in a still from “The Third Dad.”

In her own journey, Theresa found comfort as photographer and filmmaker, whose roles she believes are “to collect, record, and preserve.” Film and photography, she says, “allow you to see the world through a filter – the lens.” Both have helped her understand the world around her, especially during difficult times. “When you see things through the camera and record them, you can go back over them again and again. It helps you accept what’s in front of you, forces you to face things, but in a gentle way, and, in your own time, you somehow feel one step removed from it,” she explained. “I don’t think I could have gone through the process of finding my father’s grave without a camera in hand. It was a constant companion that I knew could help me in the moment and later on, as well.”

Looking at photographs of her father in a still from "The Third Dad."

Looking at photographs of her father in a still from “The Third Dad.”

Early on in “The Third Dad,” we see the narrator, Theresa, shuffling through a stack of old photographs that she removes from an envelope. The act of taking photographs is empowering because it captures time, people, and places. The photographs themselves, like fossils or hieroglyphs, are the tangible evidence that those people and places once existed. Theresa recognized a “loneliness” in the photographs that her father took, especially the ones that were taken before she was born. “He was seeking out people he loved and places full of solitude and melancholy. I think it was therapeutic for him,” she said. “He could preserve each moment for posterity, which I believe gave him comfort; he constantly negotiated between himself and the world, as I do in my work.”

Theresa behind the scenes.

Theresa behind the scenes in her studio (photo credit: Veronika Geiger).

Memory and preservation
Death and memory are constant themes in Theresa’s works across all media – film, photography, poems, sculpture, and installation. In her film poem “Letter to the Sea” (2013), she reads a poem she wrote as the ashes of a deceased person are scattered across a windy seascape. As filmmaker, she captures and preserves “the transitory nature of human existence against the constantly changing backdrop of nature.” While there’s an air of melancholy particularly in her films, a celebration of beauty and empowerment through creation is also pervasive.

Still from "Letter to the Sea."

Ashes caught mid-air in a still from “Letter to the Sea.”

Letter to the Sea
There is a sea for every stage of grief:
All are full of salt.
It is said that signs of drowning look like waving;
no way to tell dead calm from done for.
At night no one can find you;
black water reflects back rock.
The moon is a lighthouse,
darkened and mostly invisible.
Only the shipping forecasts make waves
to predict the speed at which you fall:
Quickly. Slowly. Not at all.

In her experimental piece “Flicker” (2012), she digitally rerecorded a Polavision super-8 film, in which the corrosion of the film, a result of Polaroid’s instant developing chemicals, creates “a flickering effect reminiscent of moths in flight.” Theresa writes, “The soundtrack is whispered synonyms for the word flicker and plays on early reactions to the moving image as alchemy and the vulnerability of attempts to preserve the past.”

Still from "Flicker" shows how the corroded film mimics moths in flight.

Still from “Flicker” shows how the corroded film mimics moths in flight.

Her short film, “Mono No Aware” (2013), is a digital rerecording of a slideshow of family photographs taken in Denmark and Japan during the early 1970s. The loop of photographs begins to accelerate, and despite the score of soothing Japanese bamboo flute music, the speeded-up clicking of the “slideshow” induces mild anxiety as the viewer tries to remember the details of the repeated images and put those images in some kind of order, in an effort to restore order in chaos but also to, once again, preserve those memories.

Looking up at trees in a still from "Mono No Aware."

Looking up at trees in a slide from a still from “Mono No Aware.”

“I think a lot of contemporary art is afraid of pathos,” Theresa said. “I like to embrace it.” While she admits to having a sentimental streak that inevitably finds its way into her work, she hopes it emboldens people to embrace and see the beauty of their sentimental side, instead of being stoic. “Sometimes it’s good to be vulnerable,” she pointed out. “I think it makes you stronger.”

Still from "Mono No Aware."

Still from “Mono No Aware.”

Theresa is also interested in speaking to a “collective unconscious.” “We all have memories from our families, however dysfunctional they may have been!” she said. “It’s a place we can all meet and relate to one another. A lot of bad memories may come up, but there can be something rewarding even in them. I guess it sounds hopelessly romantic, but, ultimately, I hope my work encourages viewers to look for beauty and a sense of lightness in the darkness, the sadness or the pain.”

Theresa behind the camera.

Theresa behind the camera (photo credit: Richard Warden).

Working with different media, finding second life
Theresa started writing poetry when she was studying for her degree in English Literature. After taking up photography, she attended art school, where she began to work with different media. During her exchange year at the University of New Mexico, she learned basic printmaking, furthering her artistic range. Art installation, she discovered, enabled her to create immersive experiences by combining multiple expressions in one space and likened it to being an interior designer. “You get to furnish a space with your work and create exactly the feeling you want,” she enthused. In addition, working with physical materials can be “quite grounding.” When she embraced film, it allowed her to capture all the disparate media under one medium. That said, she noted, “At the end of the day, it’s about finding the right medium to tell the story you want.”

The artist in her element.

The artist in her element (photo credit: Richard Warden).

In a piece she wrote in Central Station (February 2013) about the thought process for her art installations, Theresa explained, “In my work, I collect moments and materials that have the potential to be transformed into something else.” Her fascination of butterflies, dating back to childhood, was the foundation for “What It All Boils Down To” (silk textile made from moth cocoons and human hair). The art piece was part of Suspended Animations, a solo exhibition from her residency at Studio 41 in Glasgow in which she created new life out of discarded manmade or found natural materials.  As a child, she put dead butterflies that she found in matchboxes. “There’s something about their fragility that I’ve always found fascinating. One touch and you can damage their wings, but, at the same time, they are such amazing creatures,” she said. “They transform from caterpillars! The idea of the cocoon as a place of death, hibernation and rebirth is deeply fascinating to me. So I like the idea of taking something and turning it into something else. Nothing is wasted.”

"Shroud," archival pigment print, from Suspended Animations.

“Shroud,” archival pigment print, from Suspended Animations.

Her uncle passed away the year she had installed Suspended Animations. “What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly” (from Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah by Richard Bach) was one of his favorite quotes, according to Theresa. One Christmas he gave her a green enamel butterfly brooch and a lighter green enamel pendant. Throughout the entire ceremony at his funeral an emerald moth was fixed on the church window. “To me, it was like his soul had come to say: ‘Don’t forget me, I’m still around,'” she related.

"Old Stories Spun Anew," hand-spun audio book cassette tape, from Suspended Animation.

“Old Stories Spun Anew,” hand-spun audio book cassette tape, from Suspended Animation.

“Every time I see a butterfly or a moth, I think of him. It’s about life after death, at least in a symbolic sense,” Theresa explained. “As long as we remember people we’ve lost, they’re never truly gone. As long as we can find new purpose for something, it can have a second life.” Although she was referring to her art installation, one can see that her philosophy has come full circle to her latest creation, “The Third Dad.”

Shooting trees in fog, capturing the air of loneliness.

Shooting trees in fog, capturing the air of loneliness (photo credit: Richard Warden).

Note: You can see Theresa’s short film at LUNAFEST East Bay’s screening on Saturday, March 18th, 7:30pm, at the El Cerrito High School’s Performing Arts Theater. For more information, click here.