My Pecha Kucha Presentation

I love to draw.

On January first of 2009 I set a New Year’s resolution to post one sketch a day online. 

I had wanted to start a blog for over a year. 

It was surprisingly easy to post my first sketch and copy on Analog Artist Digital World.

My wife Terry and I moved from New York City,
and for ten years I worked for Disney Feature Animation here in Orlando.

Perry, shown here, worked in the office next to me.

The studio was shut down in 2004, because Disney executives felt,
that audiences didn’t want to see hand drawn animation anymore.

They only wanted to see computer animation.

I purchased a computer and taught myself CG animation at home.

After years of sitting in a dark room staring at a computer screen, I needed to get out and sketch.

Many early sketches were of buildings downtown, like this sketch of Church Street.

As I sketched, people would often stop to tell me their life story.

I help keep the tradition of hand drawn animation alive at Full Sail University, by teaching the principles of animation using pencils and paper before students start pushing buttons on computers.

When I began doing one sketch a day, I honestly thought Orlando had little to no culture.

I had spent ten years driving to and from Disney, and felt that Orlando must only have the heart of a theme park animatronic.

 I found these drummers in the Creative Engineering warehouse downtown.

I couldn’t imagine much culture happening in this service industry town.

 Yet with every sketch I did, I began to discover artists with talent.

I found people in every field, like Toni Taylor, shown here in her studio,
who are striving to express themselves.

 I seek out artists who love what they do and promote them with a sketch and an article.

By promoting them, I get to share with my readers what I feel is the true heart of Orlando.

I am NOT an extrovert.

 I’m only comfortable when clutching pencil and paper.

When I drive to events, I pump up the music in the car to overcome stage fright.

 I used to walk around the block several times to work up the nerve to start a sketch.

That feeling has slowly subsided, being replaced by stubborn determination.

In a crowded room, I find it impossible to focus on any single conversation,
I hear the overall din.

Small talk is not my strong point.

If I start to sketch however, a sense of calm washes over me.

While focusing on the sketch, nothing else matters.

By going out every day, I began to meet people who frequent the same events.

 They recognize my desire to sketch what is unique, and they include me in amazing sketch opportunities, like this gut wrenching blimp ride over Universal Studios.

Finding interesting stories is an ongoing challenge.

Though I tend to sit quietly observing, I am at times thrust into the limelight.

To get this sketch at the Bob Carr, the director, John DiDonna, suggested I sit onstage with the audience watching at the Red Chair Affair.

The act of sketching became a form of performance art.

I forgot about the audience as I struggled to capture the Cirque du Soleil performer on stage.

Doug Rhodehamel created this Sea of Green florescent fish hanging from the ceiling at Stardust Video and Coffee.

When I am in a room full of creative people, I feel motivated to create.

 Being isolated in a studio makes little sense, when there are so many vibrant events to sketch all around Orlando.

I found Bluesman Maxwell seated among the clutter of a flea market in Mount Dora.

He sang, “Flea Market Blues.”

No one else stopped to listen.

Each sketch usually takes about two hours to complete.

Time stands still.

When you stay in one spot for that long, some drama always unfolds.

At the Enzian Theater during the Florida Film Festival, the projectionist had to splice together the “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” reels.

I always remain open to snippets of conversation which I often jot down on the back of the sketch.

Writing helps me to complete the bigger picture.

Benoit Glazer invites people to his home called “The Timucua White House”, once a month to experience live music and art.

It is amazing how often lyrics of a song, or the plot of a play, will seem to mirror what is happening in my everyday life.

The emotional message of some productions often hits home.

Andrew Spear created a mural at the annual Snap Photography Exhibit.

By meeting so many artists, and sharing their stories, my own art grows richer.

 Listening to a theater director talk about the creative process, the conversation could just as well relate to the process of creating a sketch.

I have often been asked to stop sketching by security guards, ushers and police.

In our fast paced world, someone who stands still tends to be suspect.

This accordion player at Earth Day was asked to stop performing by Lake Eola grounds keepers.
Silence can be deafening……

I don’t believe art should be profiled as a deviant behavior.

Jazz still thrives in late night dives.

 The city grows smaller as I meet the same performers again and again.

 I’m starting to feel very much a part of the culture that I document.

Since starting the blog, I have posted over 2000 sketches about Orlando online.

Every art form has uncertainty, and blind searching, followed by revelation.

 I’m never satisfied with any sketch as I am working on it.

Only looking back, can I acknowledge that it isn’t the worst sketch I have ever done.

I love keeping track of all the arts organizations in town, on Analog Artist Digital World.

At times, I feel I have my finger on the pulse that helps keep Orlando alive and vibrant.

Some organizations have had to close, but there are always people who strive to make this city an interesting place to live.

Every time I sketch, I fall in love, be it with a gesture, setting, or people’s stories.

Mary Oliver gave simple instructions for living life, “Pay attention, be astonished, and tell about it.”

By sketching daily, I discover so many people who astonish me, in a city I now call home.

I love my wife, life and Orlando!

Mark Your Calendar! The next PechaKucha V13 will be on Friday June 13th at the Orange Studio, 1121 N. Mills Avenue, Orlando, Fl. I hope the presenters aren’t superstitious!

Animatronics

In the basement of Creative Engineering, half finished animatronic figures were lined up like so many wooden soldiers. The scarecrow and tin man were nestled in among the crowd from a long lost Oz attraction. Yellow air tubes snaked in and around the aluminum inner structures. Eyes stared blankly forwards, yet the scarecrow had a mischievous and lifelike grin. Rather than mouths, the animatronics used a simple hinged plate to work the lower jaw. Everywhere I looked there was something to draw. Although the heat was oppressive I returned time and again anxious to find life in the dormant factory.

I studied one of the animatronics figures in detail noting every piston and servo so I might reconstruct its inner workings using my 3D animation program. I drew up an immense grid and hung it up behind the figure for size reference. It was so hot I had to remove my shirt. Sweat poured down my back as I worked. It felt good to be using a workshop that had sat idle for more than 20 years. I worked quickly and used the shirt to wipe my brow. Aaron came down to check on my progress. He laughed when he saw me at work and said, “That is how we work at Creative Engineering, anything to get the job done.”

The Rock-afire Explosion

It was a very hot day. The band members of “The Rock-afire Explosion” waited silently on the loading dock of Creative Engineering. The loading dock door was open with the hope of some cross breeze. A kinder gentler Fats sat at the keyboard. Athena, Aaron’s doberman pincer checks on my progress periodically. She still got spooked if I ran across her unannounced on the factory floor. Aaron sat in the next room programming another performance for You Tube. Periodically the Rock-afire Explosion Hits the road. For instance they performed for all the artists and staff at EA sports. Aaron had talked before of the band traveling the country like any other Rock and Roll band on a tour. The problem of course that these guys are heavy and they can’t walk themselves into the venue.

In the foreground of this sketch is Billy Bob and behind him is Mitsy Mozzarella. Beach Bear’s elbow is barely visible be hind Billy Bob. There is Fats Geronimo on the keyboard and right behind him is a darker version of himself. Dook Leroo is on the drums. Earl was the first animatronic to ever perform as a puppeteer. The voice talents were all recorded in a sound stage in the Creative Engineering factory.

Rock-afire Explosion fans are hard core however. There is a whole subculture out there of fans who love these characters. After over 30 years in storage The Rock-afire Explosion is staging a come back. Aaron is single highhandedly keeping the dream alive. The Phoenix will rise from the ashes. His creative enterprising spirit still burns bright.

I’m Melting!

The Creative Engineering factory doesn’t have air conditioning anymore. It gets sweltering hot inside in the summer. It is so hot that the rubber faces of some of the characters have started to melt. This poor moose’s snout has melted away oozing down and dripping onto the TV below it. I returned many times in the heat because everywhere I looked was new and unexpected. These characters were part of a Country Bear Jubilee.

On the floor there were isolated pools of saw dust from termites that had infested the wooden beams. There were banks of 1980’s computers many of them still operational. It reminded me of NASA’s mission control. Yet here there was little to control, just the single band that Aaron used to program videos for You Tube. I’m not sure I fully appreciate the fan base. I never went to a Showbiz Pizza when I was a kid so some of that early magic is lost. On one of my sketching excursions I did bring a huge fan. Erika Wilhite grew up loving “Rock-afire Explosion” and she had a blast when Aaron gave her a tour of the factory.

Aaron is first and foremost an inventor. When he was young he invented an automatic pool vacuum and he sold it door to door. In 1974 when there was a gas crisis he created a small car that got 75 miles per gallon. Today he is dreaming of starting an algae farm that could possibly be used to create an alternative fuel. He feels fuel could be harvested drop by drop rather than being pumped from the earth. Although he has had reasons to be disillusioned, he still dreams big, and is eternally optimistic.

Rock-afire Explosion


Stage lights flickered on and Aaron Fechter introduced us to “The Rock-afire Explosion.” He was in the midst of programming all the characters moves on the computer but he showed us a run through of what he had blocked out. The Rock-afire band sprang to life. Aaron’s girlfriend, Karry, fell in love with Rock-afire when she first saw the band back in the 80s. Athena, Aaron’s white doberman pincer, trotted back and forth watching the show with animated interest..

The factory had cutting edge technology when they were manufacturing hundreds of animatronics to be used in Showbiz Pizza Places. At the height of the creative endeavor two hundred Showbiz Pizza Places needed this animatronic band. They were fast paced times and the factory buzzed with activity and excitement. Truckloads of animatronics went out all across the country. For a generation of kids, The Rock-afire Explosion was their first influence in music. Then the executives stepped in and said there would be no more Showbiz Pizza Places. They tried to get Aaron to sell all the rights to the characters he had created. He refused to give them the rights. In response the fur and rubber flesh was peeled off of the existing characters and a cheap rug-like replacement in the form of a mouse was slipped over the inner structure. Chuck-E-Cheese was born.

Manufacturing at Creative Engineering slowed to a crawl and then stopped all together. Around the factory tools lay where they had been placed 30 years before. I picked up a tool and could see an outline on the table where it lay because of the dust. A phalanx of computers, which seem quaint by today’s standards shut down. Aaron used to say to the staff, “A byte saved is a bite earned.” Each machine had just 64 Kilobytes of memory so the code had to be streamlined. In different spots around the factory there were smaller machines that look like courtroom stenography stations. He explained to me that these were called “1996 Freedom Machines.” Essentially they were internet stations before there even was internet. They were used so Aaron could leave quick notes for people on the factory floor, and so they could leave notes in return. At one point 325 employees worked at Creative Engineering. By 2006 there were only three. Now Aaron works alone, keeping the characters alive by programing them to perform on You Tube.

Creative Engineering

Brad Kuhn first introduced me to Creative Engineering. The ramshackle warehouse is located just north of the bustling night club scene downtown. I parked in the loading dock area and got this sketch as I waited for Brad, his daughter Meschelle, and Darlyn Finch to arrive. When we knocked on the front door, the sun had set and it was starting to get dark. Aaron Fechter answered. A albino doberman pincher named Athena, was barking and snarling, but once Aaron pointed out that we were friends, the dog calmed down checking for scents on our shoes.

The entry showed promise since there were half painted set pieces lying around and sculptural forms receded back into the darkness of the factory. For the next hour or so Aaron took us on a tour of the facility. He had us step into an old freight elevator and warned us to watch where we stepped since some of the floor boards were not so sturdy. The lift loudly groaned as we rose up. I could see the drop below us through the crack between the floor planks and there was no ceiling to the lift so I could look up at the cables that vibrated and strained.

We later stopped at a whack-a-mole play station. It turns out that Aaron had invented whack-a-mole but the concept was stolen from him by some carnie. The moles in the game we stood near had Osama Bin Laden, Hitler and other despots as the moles. That idea never took off. By now he was using a flashlight to show us around. Mysterious dark forms would flash brightly for a moment then disappear into the darkness.

Aaron said he had to turn on an air compressor. He disappeared and we stood in the darkness waiting. Moonlight now filtered through the factory windows faintly illuminating the space. I heard the compressor fire up with a hiss and then I adjusted my eyes and saw the dark forms on the sidelines start to twitch to life. They moved with an awkward mechanical quality but the one closest to me shifted its gaze and stared right at me. It’s head turned, the fur bristled, and it’s eyelid raised with curiosity. Dust rose when they shook their arms and the cloud filtered our view. We were surrounded by animatronics each of them moving and stretching perhaps for the first time in thirty years…