Bob Gurr vs. the Yeti

Bob Gurr vs. the YetiThe hosts of the Season Pass Podcast sat with Bob Gurr (in the man’s house actually) and fed him questions from twitter. People asked the usual—favorite project, best thing about this or that—but one listener wanted to know something specific.

“Ask him if he knows how to fix the Yeti.”

The podcast crew laughed and groaned. Here we go…that stupid Yeti again. One more thing that should be great but just isn’t and no one knows what to do about it. Bob Gurr quieted the room…

“Why yes I do.”

Expedition Everest is Disney’s Animal Kingdom’s premiere attraction and the huge audio animatronic Yeti is the ride’s crowning jewel. The roller coaster dives around and through Mt. Everest, having near misses with the Yeti until finally coming face to face with the giant beast.

The ride is fantastic, but the Yeti itself is a marvel of engineering. Disney wanted this attraction to have a memorable grand finale. The result was an enormous, lunging, swiping audio animatronic that could move so fast and exert so much force that it needed its own support structure and foundation independent of the rest of the building (Imagineers like to say that Expedition Everest is really three buildings in one—the ride track, the mountain and the Yeti).

The Yeti is a marvel of engineering…and a total failure. Walt Disney Imagineering wanted to make the creature as real as possible, so it needed to be big and fast and heavy (the fur alone weighs 6,000 lbs.). All that speed and all that force combined with all that weight meant that the machine was a ticking time bomb. Once the Yeti was switched on it began to tear itself apart. It only functioned for a few months before Disney shut it down.

“Why yes I do,” Bob Gurr said as he blew a “kiss” to the engineers who designed the Yeti.

“You want to create the drama of the size of that very, very threatening creature,” Bob mused. “Alright, stop at that moment and figure out, ‘What is the lightest, simplest thing that I could do to do that?’ “

Bob Gurr understands “kiss”—a classic design principle meaning “keep it simple, stupid.” He did not say, “You want to create the size of that very, very threatening creature,” he said, “You want to create the drama of the size.” A very different thing.

The final, grand reveal of the Yeti lasts only a few seconds. The massive audio animatronic was a marvel of engineering, unfortunately a marvel of engineering wasn’t the ultimate goal. The ultimate goal was a feeling, an emotion, and a well told story. Bob knows this. He should approach design challenges from an engineering first perspective (*note: this line originally identified Bob Gurr as a “licensed engineer,” but he is not as stated in the comments of the “about” page), but he perfected his craft under the watchful eye of Walt Disney. To Walt, story was king. Bob understands that, as an engineer in the entertainment industry, his job is to support the story. There is no need to create something so big and so complex when the drama of size, not size itself, is required.

Keep it simple, stupid.

“Some people do not have the ability to think clearly.” Bob Gurr knows how to think clearly.

Bob Gurr and how to become an Imagineer

Bob GurrImagineer Bob Gurr answers how to become an Imagineer

Imagineering Disney, a Disney blog run by an occasional freelance designer for the Walt Disney Company, reposted a brief question and answer session with former Imagineer Bob Gurr. For those unfamiliar with Bob, he was one of the early Imagineers who worked on Disneyland (it’s been said that he designed everything that moved at Diensyland) and worked directly with Walt Disney.

I can write all day about how to become an Imagineer, but the fact remains that I don’t really know since I ain’t one. Better to take some advice from someone who is.

Visit imagineeringdisney.com, read the post about Bob Gurr and then poke around to have a look at the retro-sexy stylings of one of the better looking blogs in the business.

——

Imagineering Disney

Sailing away with Peter Pan

Peter Pan's Flight

The artists and designers at Walt Disney Imagineering are, first and foremost, storytellers. While they have many methods at their disposal, Imagineers primarily tell their stories visually since most began their careers in film—a visual medium—and only later became theme park developers. Filmmakers control everything the audience sees and Imagineers try to do the same within their parks. Over time both filmmakers and Imagineers have learned an interesting truth: often the most important piece of visual storytelling is not what the audience sees but rather what the audience does not see. This concept is put to great use through something as simple as a sail in the classic attraction Peter Pan’s Flight.

For a story to succeed a storyteller must set some ground rules (time, place, voice, etc.) and stick to them. In the case of Peter Pan’s Flight at Walt Disney World, the storytellers use the ride vehicle itself, specifically the front sail, to establish an important rule—everything of interest will happen beside and below you.

Peter Pan's Flight: ride vehicle

Shortly after you board the attraction your vehicle rises through the opening scenes where a few elevated details are partially obscured by your sail. As you lean around to see, however, those details drift behind and your brain directs your focus to the streets of London below. You can look up and forward again but there is only darkness so your brain quickly understands that the area covered by the sail is unimportant, uninteresting and uneventful.

In fact, there is quite alot going on above and in front of you, such as upcoming elements and ride mechanics, but through scene after scene the idea of only looking down is reinforced and we forget all about the dark obstruction in front, letting us lose ourselves in the story.

All of the carefully crafted misdirection throughout the ride that has trained our brains to disregard everything above is really a set up that pays off beautifully in the final scenes. As we drift past Wendy, trembling on the gangplank, our eyes are at last drawn around our vehicle’s sail and upwards towards the duel between Captain Hook and Peter Pan. We have not been fully conscious of it, but for the length of the ride we have been visually deprived and the sudden burst of light, color, motion and the final reveal of the attraction’s title character in an area our brains have dismissed as containing only darkness is an awakening for the eyes and the mind.

Peter Pan's Flight: Wendy on the gangplank

This is a well crafted story.

Great storytellers know that real fear is created not by things shown but by things hidden, real sexyness is created not by the skin that is revealed but by the skin that is covered, and a real sense of adventure is fostered not by a journey completed but by a journey anticipated. Walt Disney Imagineering continues to reach back to its filmmaking roots, showing guests something special often by not showing them anything at all.

The ride draws to a close and as we are still looking around our own sail, our vehicle drifts around the giant on-stage sail of Hook’s ship where we discover the happy finale that was always there, hiding on the very same set, just out of view. The ride vehicle comes in for a landing, people leave smiling, quietly humming ‘you can fly, you can fly, you can fly’ to themselves. One thing is certain—people know a well told story when they see it…so to speak. 

Herb Ryman’s Horizons

Epcot's Horizons by Herb RymanOne of my favorite Disney artists is Herb Ryman, but you don’t have to go too far out on a limb to say that. He is a favorite among Disney fans for his concept art, such as the rendering above of the much-missed Epcot attraction Horizons, that helped tie emotions to imagined places and places to future memories. Ryman had a knack for seeing through the hard lines of a building or tree or some other physical surface and telling the real story. He was an Imagineer.

For Christmas I received a book called A Brush with Disney: The Artist’s Journey told through the words and works of Herbert Dickens Ryman, and it is filled to the brim with renderings and paintings I had never seen before. Personal works, rough drafts and of course plenty of dreamed up Disney worlds. When I look through books like this I think, “I want to work for Walt Disney Imagineering. How does a person get to be an Imagineer? Where should I go to school and what types of courses should I take? What do I need to do?”

Turns out lots of others feel this way too. People post their questions with the hopes that the magical path to the dream factory will be opened. For those few who have managed to get a response from someone within the organization, the answers are never quite what they were looking for. There are frequent doses of reality: WDI is not just a funhouse of fantasy but a business, contracts in the industry are very short (about 18 months) and you shouldn’t limit yourself by putting Disney up on a pedestal.

“Yeah, but…” they plead, “what do I need to do?”

Imagineers will remind people that it’s important to be passionate about what interests you and be the best at it, while still being a generalist. They say to chase your passions, not a just destination, and maybe—just maybe—with some luck and a little pixie dust, you too may someday be an Imagineer.

“Yeah, but…what do I need to DO???”

If you get into a conversation with an Imagineer, you could ask, “How did YOU get there? What path did YOU take?” in the hopes of doing what they did, but that misses the point. People at Walt Disney Imagineering have personal stories that are individual and uncommon because Walt Disney Imagineering is a place for uncommon individuals. There is no magical path. WDI is not looking for people who have hit all the checkpoints, they are looking for people who belong.

Who does belong? Our good friend Herb Ryman for one.

When Walt Disney needed an aerial rendering of Disneyland, he called the artist in to the studio who, after a little coaxing, agreed to put Walt’s vision on paper. “Herbie,” Walt said, “I just want it to look like nothing else in the world. And it should be surrounded by a train.” With this as instruction, most of us would shake our heads in utter disbelief…twice…stammer and say, “WH-WHAT???” Walt needed instant brilliance and Ryman delivered, creating the single most important piece of art in the history of the Disney theme parks, and did so in a single weekend. Herb Ryman was special, and he belonged.

Ryman went on to create some of the greatest pieces of concept art for the Disney company, painting a feeling that helped convince the Disney board to open their checkbooks and say, “We’ve GOT to build that!!” He was eccentric and his color pallet was absolutely bizarre, but he was able to see the horizon, get there and blow right past it.

Epcot concept by Herb RymanWe can’t be Herb Ryman, but we can be special. At WDI, anyone can do what Disney has already done, but it takes someone special to create something that looks like nothing else in the world (oh, and don’t forget it should be surrounded by a train). They have a word for a person like that at Walt Disney Imagineering—Imagineer.

Here’s a nice little bit of advice from from Imagineering: A behind the dreams look at making MORE magic real (below is the second of two passages from the back of the book, the first called So you want to be an Imagineer and the second called Or just think like one. One addresses being while the passage below addresses becoming. It is significant that the more useful of the two is the latter):

Do just about anything to solve a problem. Have a positive attitude. It will be hard, but don’t act like it’s hard. Be a student, and be a teacher.

Be inclusive, and make sure that everybody has a seat at the table. Be flexible. Learn to recognize the value of untargeted thinking, both creative and applied. Never give up; remember that there is a way to make it work. Wear a lot of hats. Be respectful. Listen. Cultivate a zen-like ability to be unattached to your idea while being passionate about it. Contribute, change, go with the flow. Be adaptable and open to different opinions and experiences. A successful organization is introspective. Always ask, “What’s next?” Most of all, have fun.

“Yeah, but…what do I need to…oh…OH!!!” I’ll see you there.

Imagineering on the wall

Imagineering poster (now with 100% more hanging)In September I wrote this post about a print I had found in Walt Disney World. I am happy to announce that I still have the print, but now it is 100% more on the wall. It is my Imagineering poster, putting everything I love about WDI in one neat little take-home wall hanging. It makes me smile, it inspires, it sends my mind off to Disney World, it slices, it dices, it even cuts cans…and it is finally off the floor and on my wall.

This poster hanging near my desk makes me think about all the spectacular work produced by the ‘dreamers and doers’ of Walt Disney Imagineering, and it only took four months to hang. This tells me two things: 1. it reminds me to keep pushing and 2. I have no problem with the dreaming, but the doing could prove to be a bit tricky.

Now I’ll just have to hang this cork board thing…need to get on that…at some point here.

Corkboard

Imagineering over the details

Tree of Life

I’ve been obsessing over little details lately, particularly when the details are wrong. Too much negativity can really wreck your outlook on life, so I just had to turn it around and talk about some people who get the details right. Back to my favorite subject, absent too long from this blog—Imagineering.

Walt Disney Imagineering is the division that designs Disney theme parks and they are crazy for detail. If you’ve been to Disney’s Animal Kingdom, perhaps you can visualize the following:

Imagine how the Tree of Life looks as you enter Disney’s Animal Kingdom parking lot. Maybe a little intriguing, teasing you with the tops of its leaves peeking out over all the other trees? Now think about how it looks once you come over the bridge in the park to get your first fully framed view of the icon. Pretty spectacular spreading out in front of you? Now, how does the tree look as you wind around beneath it, getting really close while you wait to see It’s Tough to be a Bug? What if, when you got close enough to touch the Tree of Life, you realized that the animals were just drawn on with spray paint and that the bark was just choppy concrete and cardboard? What if there was no detail?

Jane Goodall's GorillaThe artists of Walt Disney Imagineering think like filmmakers, staging their theme parks using three basic “shots” — wide shot, medium shot and close up. In the Tree of Life scenario, the view from the parking lot is the wide shot and the view from the bridge is the medium shot. Both of these orient you, letting you know exactly where you are, but it is the view from beneath, the close up, that is so important to the success of the parks and the stories they tell.

Imagineers agonize over seemingly the most insignificant details because they know that is what separates the experiences they create from the rest of the pack. All the Disney parks are loaded with detail, with Animal Kingdom being one of the best examples. Everywhere you look, even everywhere you don’t, there are little touches that support the story—rockwork, roadwork, woodwork and bonework—all tiny little masterpieces that represent conscious decisions and actions by Imagineers.

Other amusement parks may try, from a design perspective, to match Disney but they typically miss the point. They work so hard to bring in the biggest attractions with the latest technology, all of which look spectacular in wide shot. It is when you come in for a close up, however, that you see something is wrong. In place of detail, they have slapped a few pieces of painted plywood onto a wall and have called it a story.

“There ya go. There’s your story, just like Disney. Now go ride the thing!”

A typical guest at one of these parks may not realize what is missing, but they can feel it. Yes, an individual ride may be thrilling but the emotional impact created by a well crafted story steeped in detail is just not there. The details do not support bigger picture.

Imagineers are people who have a love of something deeper. They understand, on a base level, that a great story is built upwards from a depth of detail, down to the last leaf imprint in the pavement. It is the attention to detail that lets guests lose themselves in the park experience. They know everything has been thought of, everything has been taken care of. Quite simply, everything is just done right. The wide shot may orient, but it is the close up that enchants. It is the detail that really tells the story.

Ready for its closeup

A special little guy

There are times when I find myself getting really low, feeling stuck or just out of ideas in general. Luckily I ran into a special little guy not too long ago who reminded me to quit moping around get going again. His name was Hunter and he was 4 years old.

I had just come off the hockey rink for a rest when a little guy came tottering over, his mother chasing behind. He announced his name—I’M HUNTER!—and his age—I’M 4!—and, before his mom could get ahold of him, he stole the hockey gloves right off my hands. Hunter was quick.

He threw on my gloves and immediately started punching things—the wall, the bench, me. Now, I’m not the toughest guy in the world but I should have been able to hold my own against this kid. I didn’t stand a chance. Amid the flurry of body blows and uppercuts his mother intervened, apologizing to me and telling her son to return my gloves.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” I said, gasping for air.

Just as quickly as Hunter stole the gloves off my hands, he put them right back on me. He wasn’t done with them, though, and he wasn’t done with me. His hand dashed into his pocket and produced a little toy lizard, a chameleon, green and rubbery and in need of a good place to play.

Sure enough, the back of a glove with its thick and bumpy padding was the perfect landscape for a chameleon to explore. For a while his toy was on rocky terrain, getting his foot caught in the cracks, then he became a giant stepping over a vast mountain range. The chameleon breathed and seethed, stomping across the countryside with a ferocious roar. I was just beginning to see what Hunter was seeing, getting lost in the new world he had created on the back of my glove, when suddenly he was gone.

“Uh…sorry…thanks…Hunter wait!” his mother called as she chased behind her son who had now become an airplane. I watched this little 4-year-old tornado lay a path of creative devastation around the rink, out the door and back again. I looked back down at my gloves, wondering what they might have become next if Hunter had stuck around.

He had a toy chameleon, an animal that changes itself to suit its surroundings and I smiled thinking he was just like that chameleon, changing himself into whatever he wanted to be. The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized Hunter was actually the exact opposite. He didn’t change himself to match his surroundings, he changed his surroundings to match his imagination. He didn’t care what my gloves were, he just cared what they could be.

Things are looking up—if only because I’ve decided that they are. Time to pack up and get going.

Liking the guests

One of the things that makes a trip to Walt Disney World so unique is the friendly attitude of most of the guests there. People who typically wouldn’t say a word to one another on the street are suddenly offering to help those who seem a little lost or who can’t find a place for their little one to watch a parade. I believe this comes from the fact that the people who created the parks truly like their guests and have their best interests at heart. With that kind of attitude coming from the top you can’t help but want to pass it along.

Other companies could learn alot from this. Creating a true customer relationship cannot happen if you never liked your customers in the first place. Here’s an excerpt from the book Designing Disney by John Hench, one of the Imagineers responsible for creating the Disney theme parks.

Liking the guests is key to everything we do.

John HenchTo build effective story environments and assure guest comfort, we designers realized that we always had to assume the guests’ position and point of view, and just as Walt did, to take the guests’ interests to heart and defend them when others didn’t think that it mattered.

I became very aware of how radically different Walt’s attitude to his customers was when I was loaned to another studio for a special-effects job. I was doing a film title that required an eagle to fly into a lighted foreground and land on a rock while folding his wings. I was provided with an eagle that was too old to do the stunt, and stumbled on the rocks. We watched the dailies in a dark sweatbox. When the lights came on, I saw that one of the studio executives was in the booth watching with us. I said, “I’ll do this over again. We’ll get the eagle to land right, so that it looks like a conqueror.” The executive said, “No! We will use it. That’s okay, the bastards won’t know any different.” That was his attitude toward the people for whom he was supposed to furnish entertainment and amusement. He didn’t like them. He didn’t care. I have often since wondered how many people in business really like their customers.

I have worked for this kind of company, several times in fact, and maybe you have too. Businesses like the money their customers bring but feel the people they sell to are somehow beneath them. Don’t waste your time on a place like this. It is beneath you

We can’t let the product go out like this. It’s defective! We can’t let this week’s issue out the door this way. It’s full of mistakes! We can’t just ignore this customer’s complaint. They had terrible service! No! We will use it. That’s okay, the bastards won’t know any different.

You can try and make a positive change, but if the culture is too ingrained the company may be beyond help. If you decide the company you work for “just doesn’t get it,” it may be time to go find a company that does.

Imagineering

Imagineering poster

I found this print at Walt Disney World. It sums up everything that I love about Imagineering—the spectacle and awe of the castle, the history and optimism of the Walt and Mickey ‘Partners’ statue, and the reminder of just how much hard work goes into making something so special represented by the technical drawing.

The people at Walt Disney Imagineering are described as “dreamers and doers.” I dream of putting this print on my wall, so I will do just that…eventually…once I find some nails or hooks or whatever you use to hang these things…

UPDATE: I hung it up…so yay. Go team.

Waiter, there’s an Imagineer in my soup

A librarian? You’ve got to be kidding me…

On our last trip to Walt Disney World we decided to take advantage of a special little program called “Dine with an Imagineer,” and honestly I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Walt Disney Imagineering is made up of people from about 200 different disciplines, so the Imagineer I was sharing a meal with could have been anything from an engineer to a set designer to an accountant. I just didn’t know, but when the day came I was excited all the same.

We showed up at the restaurant, the Hollywood Brown Derby at Disney’s Hollywood Studios, put on our little name tags, noted a few others in the waiting area wearing similar little tags and were lead to a little room where a little guy, probably early 30s, stood with a not so little grin on his face. He welcomed all eight of us, took a seat in the center of a long table, still grinning, and said we should start by going around the room to tell everyone our name, where we were from and our favorite Disney thing.

Ah ha! Perfect opportunity to open with a joke!

About halfway around the table my turn came. “My name is Jonathan, I’m from Atlanta and my favorite Disney thing is…uh, so…” I turned my attention to the Imagineer. “What is it that you do? Because that’s my favorite thing.” Bomb. I sat with a smile on my face that said I’m completely kidding, but I totally whiffed.

Interrupting the cricket noises, our host’s grin faded a bit as he stammered and said we would get to that later. I tiptoed back from the hole I had crawled in to give him my real answer and we continued around the table.

We looked over our menus and I noticed mine had my name printed on the inside, but below that was the name of our Imagineer along with a brief write up about what he did for the Walt Disney company. And that’s when I saw it—librarian.

My heart sank.

My Imagineer could have been anybody but I got the bookworm. Our host finally formally introduced himself and it became apparent very quickly that this was no ordinary librarian. There are people who know a lot about something and others who know a little about everything. Our Imagineer knew alot about everything, and it’s no wonder. With his multiple degrees in information sciences and his position as reference source for the greatest dream factory in the world, this man was simply surrounded by information at all times. Architectural information, artistic information, historical information and of course Disney information.

As the Imagineer talked he finally got around to how he got the job at WDI—networking. He contacted people within the organization and developed friendships that eventually lead to his current position. He employed a few cloak-and-dagger tactics and ran into a healthy bit of luck, but really it all started with who he knew. He noted that he hadn’t heard of anyone who had been brought in by applying on the website and wondered what happened to all those applications and resumes. It stands to reason that if you want to work in a highly creative field, applying online is perhaps the most uncreative way to go about it. The men and women who work for Imagineering are passionate people who are happy to lend a helping hand to those who need it.

How do I know who to contact? Read. How do I know what to talk about? Think. Should I ask about what Disney’s plans are for the future? Maybe press for some inside info and grab an autograph? Yes. Wait, no.

Using a dose of creativity, alot of hard work and persistence plus a little common sense, your efforts will be rewarded. As our Imagineer sought out the job he made friendships, he got creative and he would not take no for an answer. That’s how he landed that dream job. By the way, I got the sense our host was extremely good at what he does. That kinda helps.

What I thought would take about an hour turned into a near three hour long lunch of non-stop conversation and stories. We talked about anything and everything Disney and he didn’t coat his answers with sunshine and pixie dust. It was real honest conversation. No, he wasn’t part of the design team, but he loved his job and loved his company, and being around someone like that, you just can’t help but love it too.

If you are hoping to one day work for Walt Disney Imagineering, take his advice and get to know the company and the people you want to work for. That way, when someone asks who helped you get in the door you can say, “It was the Imagineer…in the library…with the candlestick.” (Who kills someone with a candlestick? Honestly.)