Happy Haunt Materialized

After what has seemed like an eternity, Jody Daily and I are finally able to rip the shroud of mystery off of our latest endeavor: a near-as-humanly-possible-to-exact-scale-replica of the Haunted Mansion's most perplexing spectral resident - the Hatbox Ghost!

If you don't already know, the Hatbox Ghost was originally created to inhabit the Attic Scene, along with the forlorn bride. There among the dusty clutter of old trunks and furniture, the top-hatted ghoul would confront the endless procession of Doom-buggies while dangling a hatbox from his bony hand. With every beat of the bride's broken heart, his grinning head would disappear from his shoulders, and fleetingly reappear in the hatbox.

This visual gag, as envisioned by the ride's designers, would've been accomplished by tricky lighting. A blacklight pinspot focussed on the ghost's head would turn off and on, while a small light concealed in the upper portion of the hatbox would illuminate his face inside, visible through the box's scrim wall.

In theory, it sounds awesome, but the effect didn't work as well as anticipated , and the Hatbox Ghost was removed from the attraction sometime in August of 1969, never to return.

Creepy creep with eerie eyes.

Fast-forward to today, and the Hatbox Ghost has still yet to show his ugly faces in the attraction. Nevertheless, in the intervening four decades, he has risen to legendary status among his fans, Jody and I included.

Earlier this year we were invited to produce some sort of art piece to be auctioned at the upcoming D23 EXPO. Our plates were already overflowing with other projects, but we kicked around several ideas before it suddenly dawned on us what would be the coolest thing in the world to build-- our very own reincarnation of the original 1969 Hatbox Ghost character!

With the support of Disneyland and Walt Disney Imagineering, we threw ourselves body and soul into the project. Studying the few existing photos from 1969, and reading everything we could find on the subject (which ain't much), we cleared a large space in our studio and started sculpting. We've produced many detailed replicas over the years, but this one was the most challenging and, I think, the most rewarding. Normally our items are designed and coordinated by us, to be manufactured by Disney's vendors, mostly in China. But this one was different.

Even though it's an edition of only one, it turned out to require nearly every skill we've got. Engineering, sculpting, woodworking, metal and plastics construction, painting and sewing. Lots and lots of sewing.

His body is plastic and wood armature on a wooden base (it rolls on casters!) designed to resemble attic flooring. His cane is reinforced steel, his hairpiece is sewn nylon fiber, and he's covered from head to toe in sheer chiffon fabric held together by miles of my own hand-stitching. The hands, head and feet are molded resin from my original sculpts (and cast by our friend Doug Hild who, FYI, molds the artist maquettes for Walt Disney Feature Animation.) Even his coat buttons are special, fabric-covered wooden turnings. When all was assembled, Jody gave the entire piece a super-deluxe custom paint job.

From the 1969 photos, the original figure's body appears to be quickly made out of bunched-up plastic drapery, similar to the plastic used for shower curtains. Our replica needed to be much more resilient, since it will be loaded onto trucks, set up in the Anaheim convention center, and ultimately packed off to haunt some lucky bidder's collection. It also needed to be relatively lightweight and safe, so chiffon fabric skin over plastic provided a vaporous ghostly effect, while holding its shape.

Over the span of a couple months, our 1969-style Hatbox Ghost took form. Long before he even had his hair or costume, he was already starting to look very... um, interesting! We even had to temporarily tape paper over the windows to prevent the little kids next door from seeing this freaky thing we were making.

I admit, it'll be sad to see him go in the auction on Sept 12, but in the meantime, I plan to take a lot of fun pictures of him. Our version of the figure was never intended to be installed in the attraction, but Jody and I have daydreamed of how exciting it would be to see the character brought back to Disneyland someday. Man, it would be amazing!

Brass name plate on the Attic floor base.

Join us for an ultimate Disney fan experience as we unveil the magic of Disney during our D23 Expo Live Auction. Disney enthusiasts will have the opportunity to bid on unique Walt Disney Studio and Theme Park experiences, tours, one of a kind artwork, props and more.

D23 EXPO LIVE AUCTION

Saturday September 12, 2009

6:30 PM

Anaheim Convention Center, California

Wall to Wall Creeps

Wind-Up Conservatory Coffin Replica

Haunted Mansion Crypt Candelabra

...for the Haunted Mansion 40th Anniversary Merchandise Event.

September 9, 2009

Double Take

One of the most famous faces in New Orleans Square, a versatile performer able to tackle roles both dead and alive...the infamous Pirate Auctioneer (1967) and the Ghost Duelist (1969).

Pistol Packin' Poltergeists

Up against the wall... Marc Davis' dueling portraits, 1960s.

The Haunted Mansion opened its doors to humans forty years ago today, on August 9, 1969.  It's still one of the finest theme park experiences ever created.

Disneyland is hosting some spooky doin's throughout the next 

month, and Jody and I are excited to be involved.  Stay tuned.

Mr. Hayward's Moon Model

Walt Disney gets the big ball rolling, 1955

Years before Astronaut Neil Armstrong took "one small step for Man," Walt Disney was already sending mankind to the Moon and back aboard the TWA Moonliner Rocket at Disneyland. Amature space travelers gazing at the overhead scanner could view the lunar surface grow larger and more detailed as the rocket rumbled toward its destination. 

The moon seen in the Disneyland attraction was, naturally, an intensely accurate scale model sculpted by Pasadena artist Roger Hayward.  Hayward, who was also an accomplished scientific illustrator, had won international attention in 1934 when he constructed an enormous section of the moon's surface for the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles.

Roger Hayward, in 1934, sculpts an 80-foot diameter section of the Moon's surface.

Soon Hayward was building smaller but complete moons for the Los Angeles Griffith and Chicago Adler Planetariums.  The Griffith model had been on display for nearly twenty years when Disney director Ward Kimball came along and made it a movie star in his Man in Space series for the weekly Disneyland TV program.

 Disney Story Artist Bill Bosche (foreground left) supervises the moon landing at the Disney Studios, March 1955

The 6-foot moon was trucked down the hill to the Disney Studio staff shop, where a casting was made (from a huge mold about the size of a hot tub!)  Reportedly in the process some of the surface details were altered, and Hayward himself was hired by Disney as a consultant to provide corrections.

"Ah, see the moon, Moon that shines in June, Like a macaroon..."

 Griffith Observatory, March 1995

Today Roger Hayward's Moon remains as impressive as ever, and I go out of my way to admire it each time I'm at the Griffith. The model was originally located in a special art deco-ish vestibule on the observatory's main floor, but was relocated in the recent renovation to a less-prominent spot downstairs.

Hayward's Moon displayed at Griffith Observatory today

Strangely there is no credit given to Hayward at the display, which I think is a shame.  Apart from the detail and accuracy of mapping out the moon's real features, Hayward's model is an historic treasure of the planetarium itself, and a major attraction since the very beginning.  

As far as moon models go, this one is a star.

Roger Hayward in 1964

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And now the skills of the sculptor and the talents of the artist will let us relive a few great moments with Mr. Hayward's Moon Model...

Clip from Walt Disney's "Man and the Moon" 1955

Candy Box 

I'm dedicating this post to Vintage Disneyland Tickets, who recently shared photos of the original Fantasyland Central Ticket Booth on his wonderful blog.  

Since the 1970s, the little booth, vaguely resembling a medieval tournament tent, has been tucked into the back corner of Fantasyland.  But as early as 1959, the booth was right in the heart of everything.

When the Park ceased selling ticket books in the early 80s, the booth was transformed into a charming mini-mart for Kodak Film and information.

Still in use today (the gold-crowned peak was removed only a few months ago during a renovation), the little booth remains an eye-catching example of early Disney architecture.

Nostalgia Under Glass

 July 17, 1995 was a milestone day, for several reasons.  As Walt Disney's magical little theme park in Anaheim was celebrating "40 Years of Adventures",  Jody and I were celebrating the completion of one of our first collaborative projects together: Four freestanding kiosks showcasing photos and memorabilia from Disneyland's first four decades.

For months leading up to the 40th, we researched and gathered content, wrote captions, and designed the display cases, which were intended to evoke the nostalgic architecture of each area of the Park.

Some of the kiosks had built-in planters for living greenery.

As the summer rolled by, the displays sometimes rolled to different locations.

When their service eventually came to an end, the kiosks were auctioned off to collectors.  (Do you have one??)

With the debut of the new Indiana Jones attraction  that summer, and all the publicity surrounding it, Park Operations felt Adventureland didn't require any extra attention, so its themed display was never built! 

Fabulousland!
Say whatever you want about flat surfaces and Walt running out of money at the last minute...early Fantasyland was SPECTACULAR!

Captain Eo Window Display

This figure, created for a display in the Disneyland Showcase preview center on Main Street in 1985, was the public's first view of Michael Jackson in his role as Captain Eo.  The sculptures of Eo and his "ragtag band", displayed in a miniature setting from the film, were all made and painted by an enthusiastic  young  artist, Jason Bahret, of the Disneyland Entertainment Art Department.

Hooter

In the early 1980s, Jason was the undisputed whiz-kid of the Art Department, creating character art, building scale models for parades and shows, and constructing full-sized set pieces. When I was hired into the department in 1988, Jason had already transferred to the Disney Stores design group, designing all those big fiberglass Disney characters that populated the first new store interiors.  I didn't really get to know Jason until 1991, when we both sculpted characters for the "Beauty and the Beast" Emporium windows, but his name was legendary to me.

 Clay over aluminum wire armature.

For the Captain Eo figures, Jason recalls that there was not much reference available to him. No one had seen the fim, which was still in post-production, and the Studio was reluctant to release any  photos so early, so he referred to a handful of color slides that had been shot on the set.  "The biggest challenge for me was figuring out all the layers, buckles and straps on Michael Jackson's costume," Jason recalls.  "I must have just made up about 40 to 50 percent of it since I couldn't see it in the slides."

Major Domo

Thanks to Jason for generously sharing these images from his personal portfolio.  After 27 years at Disney, he left in 2006  to explore more interests (he's also an actor!) but you can enjoy more of Jason Bahret's creative work here.

With Jason at our gallery show in Laguna last year.  

He's still a whiz-kid!

The Birthday Cake Room

Happy Birthday to you, dear blog readers! Welcome to the Birthday Cake Room, that odd circular gallery at the rear of the Disneyana Shop!  Why don't you come on back and check out some of the beautiful paintings hanging around in here (and I'll be darned, there's one by me!)

What—you didn't know this was the Birthday Cake Room?

For many years, I'd hear older Disneylanders refer to this little space as the Birthday Cake Room, and I often wondered why.  Perhaps, as some said, it was simply because the room was shaped round like a cake. Or maybe, as others believed, it was built to house a giant pastry for one of the early birthdays of the Park.  

Well, that answer's nearly right.  Here's the real story behind the Birthday Cake Room...

Sam McKim's 1955 rendering of Swift's Birthday Cake Room

In 1955, April to be exact - only 4 short months before Disneyland was set to open - Artist Sam McKim was asked to sketch a small alcove that could be built at the back end of the Market House.  The store, equipped with marble counters, large glass jars, cracker and pickle barrels, and a pot-bellied stove, was sponsored by Swift & Co. Meats, a company signed on to be a major sponsor in the Anaheim park. Besides keeping those pickle barrels stocked in the Market House, Swift would be providing beef, bacon, poultry, cheese, butter and ice cream to two new restaurants (namely, the Red Wagon Inn and Swift's Chicken Plantation in Frontierland) -- AND they were going to co-sponsor the nationwide opening day telecast.  

So, when it was announced that 1955 also happened to be the company's 100th year in business, a special room in the Market House was set aside to house a huge fake birthday cake... a cake "with 100 candles and topped with the Swift Centennial emblem."  Windows cut into the cake's sides showed scenes depicting "a century of progress in food preparation", as the press release described it.  There were pictures of wood-burning stoves, antique iceboxes and modern refrigerators, great-grandpa butchering a steer and great-grandma cooking a pot roast. It was a veritable carousel of progress in the form of an eight-foot tall layer cake.  Man, what a party!

The new unbirthday cake room, circa 1967 

After the celebrating was over the big dessert was rolled out of there, and the open space became a charming getaway from the crowds in the Market House.  A collection of antique nickel-operated music machines tinkled out old-timey tunes for happy folks who wandered back to enjoy a cookie and a cup of apple cider. 

Hank, honey, get up and 

put another nickel in, 

in the nickelodeon... 

Special details, such as these ceiling ornaments, seen in Sam McKim's original concept drawing remain in the Birthday Cake Room to this day.

Through the open doors above we see the 1967 Burry's Cookie Shop - formerly the Swift Butcher Shop, and our current day Disneyana Shop!   The wall separating the two rooms has since been opened for easy entry into the galleries.  No roadblock to get in your way as you head for that wall of big figs!

Disneyland Autopia, 1963

The Tropics go Technicolor at the American Cinematheque's Tiki Luau Weekend at the Egyptian Theater in Hollywood. See a classic island musical romance PAGAN LOVE SONG (starring Esther Williams and Howard Keel), a hot-blooded Hawaiian soap opera DIAMOND HEAD (with Charlton Heston), and the volcanic adventure THE DEVIL AT 4 O'CLOCK (featuring Spencer Tracy and Frank Sinatra.

The Egyptian's courtyard will host a "Southern California-style" Luau Dinner with live musical entertainment by King Kukulele and the Polynesian Paradise Dancers on July 25.  

Visit the American Cinematheque's Site.

Pointy Silver Thing

Can you guess the purpose of the shiny object in these photographs from July 14, 1955?

It's the tip - and final detail - being added to the Disneyland Moonliner Rocket,  three breathless days before the Park's opening.

    I can tell you this much- I would not want this guy's job.  Suspended from a crane 76 feet above the  terra firma of Tomorrowland, he's left his shoes on the ground, preferring sock feet. One soft footstep for man on that polished Kaiser aluminum surface...

Cartoon Bruins

Look out!  Cute on the loose!  Tuffy and Tubby wreak havoc on vacationing humans in Walt Disney's fluffy live-action comedy Yellowstone Cubs (1963).

This is the original publicity artwork - (click on it to make it huge) - hand-painted by, I think, artist Paul Wenzel.  Anybody know for certain?

The painting was auctioned in 2006. I like it a lot.  It's not perfect, but it's got that funky, sixties sweetness that was so well conveyed with paintbrush and gouache. 

You don't have to agree with me, though. In fact, Cartoon Brew's Jerry Beck wondered just last week if this very illustration could be the "Worst. Disney Poster. Ever."

As for the movie itself, I recently got the new DVD release and found that it still offers much to enjoy, such as Rex Allen Jr.'s folksy narration and these simplistic, punchy title cards:

On the other hand, here's the current packaging that Disney is using to sell the DVD...
I bet you can guess which art I prefer.

Rescue Me!

A friend of mine has a theory that whatever happened to you when you were eleven or twelve years old sticks with you forever. Everything that brought you joy at that wide-eyed age—be it a camping trip or a pair of pants—is guaranteed to provide you pangs of nostalgia for the rest of your life. Think about it for a second and you'll know it's true.

I was eleven in 1977. Which explains, for better or worse, why I melt into mush whenever I think of the Waltons, James at 15, or Shields & Yarnell.  I drew Jawas on my homework while the transistor radio demanded that I shake, shake, shake - shake my booty. The relentless grasp these fragments of pop-culture have on my heart strings remains more powerful than even Lindsay Wagner's bionic hearing.

"Jawa" by a very young me

Another thing that happened that most impressionable year: Walt Disney Productions released an animated film called The Rescuers. I was totally obsessed with it.  Just ask my beaten-down parents who lovingly endured trips to Pizza Hut seven weeks in a row for a Pepsi in a "take home" Rescuers glass. (I still have the whole set, and Pepsi does taste better when consumed from one.)

I could go on and on about The Rescuers, such as the time when my best friend Joey Dolbeer and I performed a Rescuers puppet show for our fifth grade class, or when I talked my brother into building a full-sized replica of Medusa's swamp mobile that you could actually ride in (pushed on rolling casters around the backyard.)

Best of all was Evinrude, the turtle-neck-sweatered dragonfly who pushes a leaf boat through the swampy waterways and, like me, was prone to asthma attacks. (It actually took years before I caught on to the joke of his name.) For my eleventh birthday, my mom made a cake in the shape of a tree stump with a tiny Evinrude perched on top, foil wings pressed into a blob of green frosting.

Years have passed, but I can still summon up alarming enthusiasm for Jawas, The Man From Atlantis, and Evinrude.

For instance, yesterday I celebrated another birthday (do the math and you'll find I'm now eleven several times over). My birthday cake, courtesy of Jody and The Alcove in Silverlake, had a faintly familiar thing going on...and I instantly fell into that dreamlike state.