One thing I love about my job as a film maker and animator is the site visit. Meeting clever experts in their native habitat to learn about their world first hand is just such a pleasure. My work for the Museum of Zoology was just such a case, and I often think about my first visit to this beautiful collection.
Mid-refurb, as I walked in, I looked up at ancient skeletons covered in large, protective paper sheets, past fresh, empty cases awaiting their clean specimens. Above the balcony, sea life skeletons hung from the first floor ceiling, and I felt as though I was diving into a completely other world – submersed.
My contact, Roz, told me about the massive mammoths, giant turtles and sloths, and as we stood underneath the huge skeleton of an extinct rhino, she explained how all these are preserved, why, how old they are, where they came from, and why they died out. Shivers ran over me as my sense of size and significance found humbling perspective.
Gathering a good sense of context is a vital part of the process when I make a film for someone – understanding what level of detail is right amongst everything else in the space, who the audience is, why they’re here and how they will interact with this film, and to figure out what gems we can send them away with.
One of the two films I was commissioned with was to be about Hawaiian Honeycreepers, to explain convergent evolution. This one, as the picture above shows, sits alongside some of Charles Darwin’s specimens from his Beagle voyage, including a giant turtle. If this wouldn’t give me a good sense of context and story, what—on earth—would? So we retreated to a big table in a nearby research lab, and while Roz explained the science I sketched out storyboards. As a helpless storyteller, I was full of questions on the lookout for a compelling narrative.
Convergent evolution played out through the proliferation in species of these beautiful little birds across the Hawaiian Archipelago – an explosion of life and colour. We mapped these origins to the picture today – species extinction due to changes in human behaviour and habitat.
There was our story. The joy and flourish of life, threatened with extinction.
In the next stages, we roughed out a script that balanced facts and narrative which would go through rounds of review and editing later on. Back at base, with my sketched storyboard, I worked up full artwork using Angela Wade's beautiful illustrations, and I submitted this along with exact script to be signed off before animating began. With a very tight turnaround, firm sign off points were vital so we inched along with clear iteration. And the film was to be played out mute in situ, although I added music later for the version you see here.
What we created was intended to convey the clear science and facts, and also include measures of joy, excitement, sadness and possible hope at the end. It was hard. The honeycreeper story is a difficult one, but as the film says, by monitoring them, we can better learn how to protect them. The story ending as yet unresolved. The context of the museum full of brilliant research and insight to inspire the onward journey.
On the opening night, I walked into a spectacular finished space, overwhelmed to realise what extraordinary company my work was keeping. Sir David Attenborough was guest of honour, and hearing first hand about his connection to the museum and his wise words about us and our planet was just magic – perhaps more so because of my afternoon behind the scenes those months before.
“Glittering, beautiful and tomorrow,” said Sir David Attenborough of this wonderful, world-renowned museum.
I am so proud to have played even a small part, experiencing my own sort of evolution through stages of visiting, learning, adapting and creating an important story to share with the world.