Disney Movie With Wa Wa Wa Sound Effect

Considered by many infantile, a form of amusement for children, animation is a stylisation of reality, an artistic portrait (Băieşu 2009: 33). An animated film can depict anything the mind can produce. Anything that the artist vainly hopes to find in the real world can turn up in their animations. Animation is often thought of as a comical and humoristic representation of worlds, comical characters, caricatures and prototypes. But many examples demonstrate that animation comprises several layers of interpretation that allow both a child to break out in laughter, and an adult to enjoy its ingenious allusions, savoury jokes or deeper meanings.

The word animation stems from the Latin anima, animus, meaning soul. Animus is the principle adjoining body and soul, connecting the corpus to the anima. To animate is to give life (animare in Latin). Throughout the centuries, man has tried to immortalise significant moments. This desire to conserve an emotionally charged moment brought about the emergence of the fine arts and later of photography. A fixed image, such as a painting or photograph, is a captured moment, forever frozen in the memory. Art, although static, also evokes the temporal notion of 'before' and 'after.' Whenever such works are encountered, the viewer's mind is often encouraged to visualise an entire succession of events drawn from their own memory. The images also create the impression of motion through the representation of movement by showing a raised arm, an open mouth suggesting speech, raised eyebrows, etc.

The forerunner of animation as we know and define it today cannot be separated from the advent of cinematography. The explanation lies in the definition of cinematography itself, which combines two concepts that, at first glance, reject each other: kinema (motion) and graphikós (to write). Man had thus succeeded to write the unwritable: motion. The quest to immortalise a succession of actions, movements and happenings had thus become attainable. According to Wells (1998: 10), the Zagreb School animators say that animating means 'to give life and soul to a design, not through the copying but through the transformation of reality.' There is control over each individual frame, but especially over the flow between them.

In animation, the image constantly complements, works together with, and is dependent upon the sound. This is reflected in the collaboration between departments: the animation is often performed according to the sounds, voices and music recorded a priori. At other times, sound elements or the whole sound concept is created based on the timing of the actions and on the characters' typology.

Animation and animation sound have undergone a wide range of approaches, developments and transformations. Sound is important not just for the film itself, but also for the creative artist.

The animator is responsible for the vision, the control of the total medium, including sound as well as sight. He must think sound as well as picture. He is only half an animator if his skill is limited to drawing. (Halas and Manvell 1959: 81)

For many years, film competed with vaudeville. In the early decades of cinema, one could see vaudeville shows before the films. Many of those active in the film business had previously worked in vaudeville. Animation gags were often taken from vaudeville; even the characters were inspired from this type of show. 'The American cartoonal tradition effectively established the "gag" as the lingua franca of the animation vocabulary' (Richter 2009: 2). Consequently, animation was regarded as a variant of vaudeville for many years. Projections containing visual tricks, as primitive experiments, could be compared to vaudeville, putting emphasis on illusion.

In the early 20s, animation was under the economic pressure of weekly issues, leaving animators with little time to refine this burgeoning art form. It is unclear whether most producers failed to understand the mystery of animation techniques, or whether they were aware of it but gave it little attention as it didn't seem to promise long-term profits. Animated films were obviously more expensive as they were produced frame by frame, requiring more work. So, as Crafton (1993: 28) explains, why create more work and headaches for a product that brought the same profit? Gradually, however, animation gained ground; it became more naturalistic, even when it lacked a narrative dimension, and was based solely on visual tricks and surprising effects.

The early years of animation as a cinematographic genre were marked by experimentation and the setting of techniques, which improved rapidly. The fact that animation was not immediately recognised as an art form, but rather as a field for experimentation, brought about an approach that was mechanistic, rather than aesthetic.

Developing a camera for shooting single frames was an early priority. Later, content became increasingly important. There was no history or model to follow. There was nothing to compare with or from which to draw inspiration. Studios tended to employ very young people, some passionate draftsmen, some having gone through art schools. For some of the artists who took up cinema, their prior experience with journalism, graphic art and comic strips was important. As animation developed, studios emerged and spread. Those who just tried things out for the love of this new art form were unable to continue in this vein once animation became expensive. In fact, gags and special effects were becoming predictable, the public was yearning for something different. Audiences had more sophisticated demands, which led to the emergence of the so-called 'continuity character series'. The emphasis here was on characters to whom the public could relate on a personal level.

Walt Disney (1901–1966) had the genius to endow his characters with personalities, making them feel and react to events. He thus achieved 'audience involvement', (Thomas and Johnston 1984: 22), causing the audience to shift from simple peals of laughter to empathising with the characters on screen. Disney's vision was to merge these two apparently opposite poles while also laying the foundations of what was to be his studio's stylistic hallmark. He believed that 'Story… must be considered the heart of the business. […] There is not much that the best animators can do with bad stories' (Thomas and Johnston 1984: 79). Since he had trouble finding distributors for the silent Mickey Mouse cartoons, Plane Crazy (Disney and Iwerks 1928) and Gallopin' Gaucho (Iwerks 1928), Disney decided to add sync sound to his animations.

On August 6, 1926, Warner Bros. premiered Don Juan (Crosland 1926), a live-action film with a synchronous music and effects track using the Vitaphone disc system. On October 6, 1927, Warners launched The Jazz Singer, featuring synchronous dialogue, also directed by Crosland. From the start, Disney understood the commercial success talkies could bring and sensed that the days of silent film were numbered. As a visionary, he understood what effect sound could have on his cartoons. He decided not to continue marketing his last two silent animations, but instead, to add sound to the third, still under production at that time, Steamboat Willie (Iwerks and Disney, the latter not mentioned in credits, 1928).

Steamboat Willie was not, in fact, the first sound animation. Music and sound effects had been added to animations before Disney's film. Years before Steamboat Willie, Max Fleischer (1883–1972) was working on synchronised sound animation using the process invented by Lee De Forest. These animations were called 'Sing-along cartoons' and had a 'bouncing ball' that bounced along the syllables in the lyrics, so that the audience could sing along.

In June 1929, Paramount introduced 'Talkartoons.' But the series, called 'actual talking pictures' (Maltin and Beck 1987: 96) was poorly synchronised: there was no precise lip-sync, the dialogue was simple. It was thus a timid attempt, coming nowhere near what we would now call a sonorised animated picture. Bimbo was Fleischer's first talkie character and in 1924, the Fleischer brothers started producing animations to songs –Song Car-Tunes – with the sound track recorded with De Forest's Phonofilm technology. Paul Terry was also preparing the animation Dinner Time, which was synchronised with sound and was to be released around September 1, 1928. Disney saw that film synchronised by RCA Photophone, but was not impressed. His opinion quoted by Crafton (1993: 211) stands out in the letter he sent to Roy Disney and Ub Iwerks:

MY GOSH – TERRIBLE – A lot of racket and nothing else. I was terribly disappointed. I really expected to see something half-way decent. […] It merely had an orchestra playing and adding some noises. The talking part does not mean a thing. It doesn't even match. We sure have nothing to worry about from these quarters.

First, methods had to be put in place to ensure a natural correlation between image and sound, and by methods I mean not just those dealing with technical aspects (synchronisation was a major issue for many years, which significantly delayed the arrival of sonorised film as we know it today), but also those having to do with aesthetics. Goldmark (2007: 4) explains in his book that the fact that less attention was given to the music of animated films is proven by the lack of 'cue sheets' and scores, as were used in the case of live action films in the age preceding synchronised sound. Animation was still seen as a product for amusement, which did not necessitate the same rigorous approach as live action.

In the time when there were no scores or other written indications, those who accompanied the image had to know it very well in order not to miss the appropriate moment. They also had to anticipate and thus prepare the audience aurally. However, this was not always done masterfully, as musicians were often over-worked, given the high number of hours they had to spend interpreting the stories. Many times they had no prior knowledge of the film and had to improvise on the spot. Clearly, their intuition often misfired, and then the music played for certain sequences could not even count as a comical counterpoint, but rather an embarrassing blunder.

Since Disney wanted image and sound in perfect sync, as if the sound came straight from whatever the character was doing on the screen (Barrier 1999: 51), the music was recorded in advance. Animator Wilfred Jackson told how he played a piece of music at various tempos, until Disney was happy (Tietyen 1990: 14). Disney made the so-called 'exposure sheets', indicating action in the image and the number of frames assigned to each drawing, while Jackson would do the 'bar / dope sheets', containing precise data on rhythm and tempo, and notations of beats, so that each musical measure would have a corresponding accurate description of the action in the image. Each musical measure was illustrated with a small square indicating the tempo. That way, one would know precisely how many frames were assigned to each action, as well as its speed relative to music. The recording was in fact based on pure mathematics: Walt Disney knew how fast he wanted the action, while Jackson made efficient use of the metronome to achieve a frame-accurate synchronisation of sound to image.

Although he knew how to synchronise sound and image, he was met with resistance by New York recording studios. They didn't like getting instructions from a 'cartoonist' (Tietyen 1990: 14). In the end, he found an independent studio that agreed to his proposals. Carl Edouarde would be the conductor for Steamboat Willie. Some markers were drawn onto the projected images to help him. These acted as luminous cues, marking every musical beat, equivalent to a visual metronome. However, Edouarde completely ignored them at the first recording. Instead, he conducted according to the action on screen, relying on his long experience in the musical illustration of theater plays. Thus, the first recording was a failure. It was far from the much desired image-sound synchronisation. To fund the second recording, Disney turned to his brother Roy to raise the needed money. According to Disney, 'Why should we let a few little dollars jeopardise our chances … We can lick them all with Quality' (Barrier 1999: 53). At the second recording, Edouarde observed the visual cues, and the soundtrack was successful.

The merit of Steamboat Willie was to have given sound a key role. The whole animation was built in expectation of an adequate soundtrack, with sound always in the forefront. Variety noted in November 1928: 'It's a peach of synchronisation job all the way' (Barrier 1999: 55). While thus not the first attempt to unite sound with animation, it was the first animated talkie in the true sense of the word, and it opened the way to a new age in animation.

Disney encouraged his employees to study music history, various musical pieces and instruments. He understood that by adding sound and music to images, a radical change in perception took place: apparently anodyne images can convey emotions when accompanied by sound. 'There is a terrific power to music,' he remarked (Tietyen 1990: 10).

The creative process involved intensive collaboration between departments. The composer would discuss the film with the director. The latter was responsible for smooth action and knew exactly the duration of each shot, the movements of the characters, the scenario and the sketches. They would work together on the whole film, dividing it into measures. 'Dope sheets' were drafted, with accurate notations of the tempo, rhythm and number of frames. An animated dance sequence required music to be recorded a priori, so that the animation could be based on it. The recording would first involve a piano solo, to be used as temporary support until replaced later by an orchestra.

Disney's lack of musical training did not prevent him from producing films which have influenced the relationship between animation and music. The tunes of his films are merry and optimistic, containing messages of hope that speak to all generations, children and adults alike, or as Tietyen (1990: 9) puts it, to the child within. The American composer Jerome Kern (Tietyen 1990: 10) states that in this way, Disney made an overwhelming contribution to music, for he used it as language. Therefore, this commitment to build films around music, or the interdependence of image and sound, has played a large part in the success of his productions. Roald Dahl (Allan 1999: 92) notes that Disney's films owe half of their success to music, and the other half to the talent of his employees.

Compared to many other contemporary creators who followed his example and used sound in their animations, Disney didn't merely add music to a finished film, but built entire dance and song sequences around the music, and adapted the characters' movements to the sound. These Silly Symphonies, would be the starting point for future films in which music plays an essential role, perhaps culminating in Fantasia (1940), where the image is totally subordinated to sound.

While in Silly Symphonies, music played an important role, in Snow White (1938) it became a crucial element integrated with the narration. As Tietyen points out (1990: 37), three of the pieces written by Frank Churchill even became radio hits: 'Whistle While You Work,' 'Heigh-Ho' and 'Some Day My Prince Will Come'. Frank Churchill had previously written the music for animations in the Silly Symphonies series, but for this project, Disney asked him to have the dialogue grow naturally into melodies. Music had to be introduced using subtle, theatrical methods. Disney said, 'We should set a new pattern – a new way to use music – weave it into the story so that somebody doesn't just burst into song' (Karlin 1994: 166).

From the first sequence, Disney wanted to familiarise the audience with a new way of introducing music into animation. Snow White is surrounded by doves at the well. She talks to them, but her words are uttered to the rhythm of the melody. This passage from speech to song is so natural that the viewer is unaware of it. The Prince, who hears her sing, is charmed by her beauty and voice and joins her in the song.

The musical pieces serve as expositions, introductions to the action, and help develop situations and characters' personalities. They carry the story forward, adding meaning and depth. Both Snow White and the Prince have their own musical themes. The image-sound and dialogue-music relationships in the 'Whistle While You Work' sequence are unprecedented in animation: the dialogue weaves into the music fragments with unbelievable naturalness; animals join into the action, and each associates with a musical instrument that represents it (the tortoise, deer, birds, etc.) That makes for a perfect agreement between image (animal) and music (the musical instrument sometimes standing out as a solo).

In the 'High-Ho' melody, each dwarf has an acoustic characterisation. Their steps are in perfect cadence with the music, but this is more than 'mickey mousing' (a particular type of film music which follows movements very closely, emphasising the character's actions and the evoked tension or humour). Sound effects blend nicely into the melody. The structure of the song itself is composed largely of the dwarfs' whistling, thus alluding to the previous melody, 'Whistle While You Work'. We hear how each of them whistles – Snow White, and the dwarfs – as they work. The dwarfs' song continues as an offscreen sound, which is heard by the animals in the house. They hide in the forest at the sound of the approaching dwarfs. The tortoise falls down the stairs to the music's beat.

For the sequence where Grumpy plays the old organ, Jim Macdonald came up with the idea of recording the sound of the studio's employees as they blew into cups and jars of various sizes. Thus, the sounds produced by that organ are totally distinctive, proving great creativity and originality (Tietyen 1990: 40). It's the dawn of sound effects and film sound design. Not only had Disney succeeded in creating the first feature-length animation with a fluid, narrative content, but he also managed to discover other ways of integrating music into the structure of the film.

Fantasia (Algar, et al. 1940) was intended from the start to be a synesthetic experience, with a new approach to sound which would be heard from all directions. Disney created what he called 'Fantasound' and wanted music supremacy and, for the first time, music drove action entirely. Unfortunately, it was because of the innovation that the movie was considered at that time a failure, since most of the cinemas couldn't afford the implementation of the new sound system.

In our ordinary stuff, our music is always under action, but on this… we're supposed to be picturing this music –not the music fitting our story. (Disney, in Barrier 1999: 248)

Fantasia originated from Disney's desire to illustrate classical music and thereby make these works known to the public. Daniel Goldmark (2007: 128) recognises the merit of Disney's studio in popularising classical music. The film was largely created by people who lacked professional musical backgrounds. For instance, Art Babbitt, one of Disney's lead animators, took dancing and piano classes in order to work out the movements to animate the Chinese mushrooms in Fantasia and to 'understand music and its relationship to animation' (Barrier 1999: 265). According to Tietyen (1990: 10), Carl Stalling said that Disney's genius was to inspire the people working with and for him to come up with new ideas. Donald Graham, a drawing teacher who worked for Disney, describes how artists 'worked together with a common goal, to realise Disney's belief that analysis and thoroughness are the foundations of good picture-making' (Abrams 1982: 23). Grim Natwick, the artist who drew Betty Boop, claims, '…he was a director of men rather than a director of pictures' (Maltin and Beck 1987: 29).

The collaboration with conductor Leopold Stokowski was fortuitous. The conductor showed curiosity throughout the whole production process in the studio, being interested in technical progress and innovation. According to Allan (1999: 93), his merit was to have broadened the musical horizon of Disney's collaborating musicians, and to have experimented with sound and light, as well as stereophonic sound. In the foreword to Deems Taylor's book, Fantasia, Stokowski wrote (Tietyen 1990: 45) that music suggests mood, color and speed, and that these were masterfully expressed in Disney's film.

In the decades that followed, Disney left a legacy of films that marked the history of animation and animation music. Of course one can say there was a similar approach to the movies in terms of character design, jokes and sound treatment, but this style inspired many other contemporary artists.

The last Disney film containing animation to be produced during his lifetime was Mary Poppins (Stevenson 1964). Disney regarded it as the pinnacle of his work, a project close to his heart. As Tietyen (1990: 131) describes it, the film comprises all the defining elements of Disney films: music, special effects, animation and a story full of humor and warmth. Leonard Maltin quoted by Tietyen (1990: 136) writes that 'Every song in the film suits its context perfectly and conveys emotions and ideas otherwise unexpressed in dialogue.' The film contains some exceptional melodies still extremely popular and loved by audiences. The song, 'Feed the Birds', was meant to capture both the book's spirit and human virtues – warmth of soul, mercy, compassion and love. The melody was valued by Walt, who said, 'this is the most beautiful song ever written for me' (Tietyen 1990: 134).

The melodic line of 'A Spoonful of Sugar' can be heard from the start of the film. Throughout, it accompanies the sequences where Mary Poppins is the action's main character, becoming a musical leitmotif for her. The 'Chim Chim Cher-ee' melody became the acoustic theme of Bert. For the merry-go-round sequence, a glockenspiel was used, a reminder of the circus. In the sequence with horses and foxes one can hear French horns, suggesting the hunting atmosphere. As regards the melody 'Stay Awake', Tietyen (1990: 137) explains it uses reverse psychology: Back from the fantasy trip, the children refuse to go to bed. Then Mary Poppins sings them a different kind of good night song, one that asks them to stay awake, but it has the opposite effect of sending them to sleep.

All these moments support composer Bob Sherman's statement: 'Writing songs for Mary Poppins was a songwriter's dream. Each song we did had a purpose, a reason for being. Whether it is to build characterization or to carry the action, there is a purpose for each song' (Tietyen 1990: 136).

Disney marked the aesthetics of animation sound, his movies serve as an important legacy. Music is a crucial element in animated film. In the absence of location sound, music creates continuity and storytelling, but has, of course, also an aesthetic contribution. As Jack L. Warner notes, 'Films are fantasy – and fantasy needs music' (Gorbman 1987: 65).

Music has been the most versatile element in animation, adapting to style, period and cultural preference. The roots of animated film music are to be found in the silent film age when music was the main sound element. The melodies chosen had to underpin the action on screen and the characters' moods. At that time, music was the only acoustic element, so it had to stand in for dialogue. While captions conveyed information that could not be otherwise communicated, music had the role of indicating the supposed voice intonation, rhythm, inflections and intent.

Disney's animations, however, rose above pure technicality to embrace the artistic: characters were animated to the musical measures, and their movements were broken down by beats and followed a certain tempo. Some musical parts containing solo instruments accompanied characters with a matching physique: weighty characters with lumbering movements were matched with brass instruments, such as a tuba in a low register, while small characters running swiftly were accompanied by a flute or xylophone. Michel Chion explains that the 'prime role of music in cartoons is to aid the apprehension of visual movements' Goldmark (2007: 64).

Opting for the trendy melodies of popular music for film accompaniment provided both more freedom and better advertising for the venue where the films were being projected (Goldmark 2007: 16). This was the guiding principle of Warner Bros. when they chose to use the music they owned for accompanying their own animations. The reasoning was financial, as the melodies used were copyright by Warner Bros. when broadcast, sold, published or performed. But the rule of one song for each animation – 'song per cartoon' – most often ruined the film, as the song seemed out of place. Bob Clampett, Tex Avery and Chuck Jones criticised this policy. Disney himself, when preparing his first feature film, wanted to break with this pattern of characters bursting into song (Goldmark 2007: 17–18).

As it evolved, music for animation underwent the wildest transformations: from classical symphonic fragments to jazz and swing, pop or – as an extreme – that of Norman McLaren who scratched directly onto the sound strip of the film. Music led to the formation of sound clichés that are still present in today's animations, having become a sort of typical film language.

The role of music should not be that of plastering over deficiencies in the scenario, directing or image. Many nuances can be achieved through music – humour, characterisation, suspense and tension, cultural references, suggestions of feelings and so on. Music started like a servant, supporting the image, and gained the status of a queen. Elmer Bernstein (Karlin 1994: 82) believes that in certain circumstances music should be a character. 'Music does not just emphasise or illustrate feelings, it gives the film a tragic dimension' (Abel and Altman 2001: 55).

Recent decades have fully demonstrated that technology can make even the invisible visible, the unimaginable imaginable and the nonexistent present on screen, by building digital worlds with which the viewer can interact. Technological and aesthetic advances are closely linked. John Lasseter believes that 'the art challenges the technology and the technology inspires the art' (Wells 2006: 6). During the last hundred years increased technological possibilities have led to a broader palette of aesthetic expression. The interdependence of art and technology in animated film is shown by the fact that a certain style often implies the availability of a certain technology; the wish to render visually an idea involves the improvement of already existing methods, or even inventing new, enhanced technological practices (the case of Pixar). Animation continues to provide new possibilities of artistic expression. New technical advancements lead to new aesthetic ideas. Animators, artists and enthusiasts have the opportunity to explore this boundless universe because, as Paul Wells (2006: 7) said, 'whatever can be imagined can be achieved.'

The breakthroughs in animation were accompanied by those in sound and music. The cartoons of the silent era were the embryonic starting point for the development leading to today's 3D animations and their surround soundtracks. The piano gave way to sound effects, and ultimately the digitally-processed sounds and Dolby Atmos systems that have transformed cinemas.

Music has proven its value in animation. Where images provide accurate detail, music supplements them, suggests new interpretations or offers a wide range of artistic interpretations. Animation is beyond doubt one of the most spectacular and exciting audio-visual products. It has its own aesthetics and its treatment of sound is free of the constraints that affect other filmic products. We have witnessed amazing breakthroughs which can only offer a glimpse into what wonders the future may hold. All we need now is the courage to let ourselves be carried away to the land where human imagination runs free. So let us sit back, leave every-day life behind, and brace ourselves for an unforgettable adventure. Film is our portal to wonderland.

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CONTRIBUTOR'S DETAILS

Laura Lazarescu-Thois graduated in 2008 from the National University of Theatre and Film (UNATC) 'I.L. Caragiale' in Bucharest, in the Faculty for Film, Multimedia, Sound and Film Editing Department.

Between June 2011 and April 2012 she held two research grants in Berlin at Hochschule für Film und Fernsehen 'Konrad Wolf' in Potsdam-Babelsberg, Germany, and in June 2012 she obtained her Ph.D. in the field of cinematography and media at the UNATC 'I.L.Caragiale.'

Her book, Sound Design in the American Animated Film, has been published by both a Romanian and a German publisher.

She has edited and created the sound design for various shorts, features and animation films, for Romanian and international productions. Most of the films have been screened at international festivals and were distinguished with awards, including for best sound. She has also directed various shorts and experimental movies.

Currently, she lectures in the Department of Sound at the UNATC 'I.L. Caragiale' in Bucharest.

Contact: [email protected]

Disney Movie With Wa Wa Wa Sound Effect

Source: https://www.euppublishing.com/doi/abs/10.3366/sound.2018.0117