Penn State Prof intrigued by Japanese animation

•	Bill Ellis is exhibiting some of the items from
his collection at the Hazleton campus library and
will present a program there on Oct. 4
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By KENT JACKSON
kent.jackson@standardspeaker.com
________________________________________

Li Syaoran is woozy from exhaustion.

His head tilts, his tassel swirls, his eyes
unfocus in a climactic scene from “Cardcaptor
Sakura,” an animated series produced for Japanese
television between 1998 and 2000.

For many of the previous 68 episodes, romance
seemed possible between Li Syaoran, a teenaged
boy, and the title character, Sakura, as he helped
her search for magic cards.

Now after defeating a final foe and ready to faint
from the effort, Li Syaoran calls to Sakura.

A sketch that animators drew of Li Syaoran for the
scene is among the drawings, watercolors and
painted plastic sheets called cels on display in
the library at Penn State Hazleton. [Actually,
the cels aren’t on display, as he notes later in
the story -- Sensei]

Professor Bill Ellis, who purchased the artwork at
Internet auctions and trade shows, arranged the
exhibition.  He plans a public lecture in which he
will show still pictures and video footage from
Japanese animation as part of Community Day at
Penn State Hazleton on Oct. 3.

Ellis became interested in Japanese animation
while watching programs with his daughter five
years ago.  Since then, he sought out folklore in
the programs just as he tracked down other modern
myths from stories of ritualistic murders,
mutilated cattle, vampire hunts, and Satanic 
rites for scholarly books.

“In the last 10 years, the concept of urban legend
emerged in Japan,” Ellis said.

Western folklore influences the new Japanese
myths, which nevertheless take Eastern twists and
borrow symbols from Shinto and Buddhist faiths.

Editors excise much of the Eastern lore from
versions of the television shows that they dub in
English and release for Western audiences.

But in America, the Japanese versions with English
subtitles greatly outsell the overdubs and provide
viewers with an introduction to Japanese culture
and language. [Certainly true of 
CCS/Cardcaptors; I don’t  know if this is true of
all sub/dub series, though -- Sensei ]

The programs helped influence more U.S. college
students to study about Japan and learn to speak
Japanese, Ellis said.

“When I teach mythology, I always end with a unit
on Japanese animation.  It’s a student-friendly
way to learn about Japanese religious beliefs,” he
said.

Unlike Disney animation that pleases all ages but
is directed at younger children, the Japanese
television programs and movies depict quandaries
that adolescents encounter.

Frightening situations and monsters that appear on
screen often are allegories for conflicts
occurring within a character’s thoughts.

“The devils people create show up … (as) internal
problems projected onto the world,” Ellis said.

His daughter, Elizabeth, was 16 when he started
watching shows with her.

They still watch, but rarely agree on the best
programs.

“To her bemusement, I developed an interest in
shows she was not interested in,” Ellis said.

She likes horror [she says “action” would be
more accurate -- Sensei] and vampire shows,
whereas he prefers fantasies that delve into folklore.

Fans of the shows become collectors of the drawings.

For scenes that have special meaning to them,
collectors might pay $5000 for a colorized cel.

Ellis, however, assembled much of his collection
by paying as little as $15 for a batch of
drawings.  Nothing on display at Penn State
Hazleton cost more than $50.  

“In all honesty, it’s a fun hobby within an
academic’s budget … It’s interesting, beautiful
and cheap,” he said.

“For me and other collectors, these are series we
see as becoming classics.  A chance to own
something that went on camera is an unexpected
opportunity.”

Many of the drawings sell just as they were when
artists discarded them years ago.

Ellis buys some drawings that are stuck together
by adhesive tape, splotched with paint, or dotted
with holes through which artists drove pins when
aligning transparent layers of drawings to
assemble a scene.  [He’s referring to the
registration holes here -- Sensei]

“Some have big splashes of coffee,” he said.

Plastic cels on which artists photocopied the
black outlines of a scene and painted on the
reverse side deteriorate in light and cannot be
displayed.

Studios regard cels as hazardous waste unsuitable
for incinerators or landfills.

Collectors, though, create virtual museums on the
Internet to showcase the cels without harming them.

Ellis is curator for the Sensei’s Anime Gallery at
http://sensei.rubberslug.com/gallery/home.asp

His exhibit at Penn State Hazleton illustrates how
ideas and characters take shape as the artists
move from rough sketches to colored cels.

For the scene of Li Syaoran about to collapse, an
art director looked at a colored-pencil sketch and
drew changes that Ellis noticed after studying
pictures. [He’s referring to a genga/shuusei
genga set in the exhibit -- Sensei]  He placed
the pair of drawings side by side in the exhibit
for comparison.

“At first, you say this is the same thing.   The
more you look at it, you see why this one is a
more professional image,” he said of the edited
sketch.  

In that drawing, Li Syaoran’s eyes point in
different directions, more of his hat shows, and
his tassel swings at a different angle to indicate
that he is about to faint.

Does he declare his love for Sakura?

Ellis won’t say.

Animation enthusiasts never give away decisive
moments.