I came to Margaret Tait by way of Charlotte Wells and by way of her Aftersun…
Both women are Scottish.
Both women are filmmakers.
Both women are writers.
I’d argue that those last two points make both women poets.
Anyway.
Out of pure curiosity, I got my hands on a copy of her Poems, Stories, and Writings. It’s the same book that’s featured in the wonderful TV reflection scene in Aftersun, nestled in between, Rupert Supira’s Being Aware of Being Aware, Paul Leonard’s Tai Chi, and Billur Turan’s How to Meditate.
(These last two volumes, it turns out, arent “actual” books, but fantastic bits of production design by Billur Turan.)
Anyway.
I’ve been thinking of Margaret Tait lately, and specifically of her poem Materfamilias, because the latest season of Camp Snoopy (on which I directed a handful of episodes and bumpers) is being released this Friday.
Me bairns all are born
Fae me heed and through me hand.
I ha’e no ither kind o’ peerie babe
But only writings an bonny pictures.
I tak weel care o’ them
And send them in the world wi’ scrubbit faces,
An bid them tell the truth.
I encourage you to track down your own copy of Poems, Stories, and Writings to read the whole thing. It’s a fantastic poem and a fantastic collection. And if you’re a fellow childless creative woman, it’ll speaks to your soul like nothing else.
People will often make the case that if someone worked hard on something, it should get recognition. Or admiration. That it means it’s inherently not only worthy of some level of praise, but a proof of quality. It’s a very Protestant/American work ethic take, so it’s no wonder it’s also a prevalent one here in Canada.
Peter Markham nails it in his latest The Zen of the Director when he says:
[…] the notion that solutions to a problem, that insight itself, might arrive without effort on the part of the receiver, has a bad name. Perspiration is understood as the key to effective process.
Tangentially, I also remember big arguments at college among my peer group on the notion of critique in general, with one take flying around being “If you wouldn’t have been able to make the thing you’re criticizing yourself, then you don’t get to criticize it.”
WOOF.
Anyway.
Ever the shit disturber, I like to argue that many a dud was also the product of incredibly hard work. Hell, I’d even argue that hard work — the inefficient, misguided, unfocused, unnecessary kind —can be a key contributing factor to the making of a dud.
More than anything, I do believe (as I believe Margaret does, as expressed through Materfamilias) that ultimately, the work needs to speak for itself.
Just as you can’t read a script from a storyboard and you can’t see exactly what the storyboards may have looked like when you watch final animation — which is why you better be doing those past departments justice with both your interpretation and contribution to the pipeline — you ultimately can’t really know what went into the making of a thing unless you were there yourself. Many variables are at play.
Beyond non-negotiable questions of ethics, fair treatment, and respect behind the scenes, your average audience member couldn’t care less how “hard” you worked on something.
Which reminds me (another tangent!) of the stories of the making of The Lion King as well as many of the animated Disney features that came out of their Orlando studio back in the day (and of their subsequent successes…)
How fitting that much of the successful films of that era were the underdogs, the ones who were looked down on and were left to their own devices during production…
Anyway.
All that to say that this latest season of Camp Snoopy is fantastic despite the incredibly hard work of the crew. It features some of the strongest, funniest, and most charming episodes I’ve ever had the chance to work on, and I’m especially excited for the crew to see how everything managed to come together in the end.
I see you, and I appreciate you.
Thank you so much for all of your hard work.
♥
MÉLANIE DAIGLE 