Derek at Zagreb ‘96. Courtesy of Candy Kugel.

The interview of Derek in the film revealed Derek’s concern for Ryan and Chris Landreth wanted Derek’s reaction before the final release of the film. “Ryan was a natural talent, an intuitive artist and not necessarily an intellectual,” explained Derek. He had a way of expressing body motion that was simply unique and spot-on. But Ryan decided to go his own way leaving the fold of the Canadian Film Board. Derek was hard pressed to understand this decision and felt a certain sadness regarding the matter.

We moved on to my film script. Derek felt that my visuals were striking and he knew that they could carry the film in themselves. He wondered if I wanted to put the pressure of making an amazing film with many levels of understanding or if I wanted to make a film for myself. The former is intimidating and I realized that I didn’t want to take on such a responsibility. I wanted the freedom of making a film “for myself.” If there was something profound that arose then that would be fine, but this was an opportunity to indulge myself. Once this was established, Derek urged me to keep a human element in my film that would lend a warmth that he wasn’t sure was there. I assured him that the animation of the components of my film would add a human quality to the film.

His sense of warmth and humanity and clear storytelling guided our conversation. This helped keep me on track. Ultimately, the conversation we were involved in brought these qualities forward and I was able to keep a perspective on my work. I had promised Tracie that we wouldn’t take so much of Derek’s time this visit so soon we were departing company.

That was the last time I saw Derek. We did correspond by e-mail, but those encounters were not as rich as sitting in the presence of this animation master. Derek knew how to work with people and how to bring the best out of them. His intentions and ideas were highly regarded by many people in the animation industry. Often Derek was the man behind the curtain of the man behind the curtain. Animators are often anonymous, but to work behind such anonymity and have such great influence spoke very highly of this kind, perceptive and talented man. He will be missed but his influence will be felt for a long time and lives on in other animators like myself. Cheers, Derek!

Candy Kugel
Buzzco Associates Inc.

I saw Derek’s work before I met him. As a high school student in the John Lindsay’s “New York as Fun City” era, I was exposed to all kinds of free events and one summer night they had an animation screening in Sheep Meadow in Central Park. At this point I had never seen cartoons other than those on TV or before movies (yes)! And I remember being amazed by this event. There was a Czech film about a singing pig and Derek’s The Shepherd. Given its venue, this tale of a shepherd in New York got a rousing reception.

Later I went to the first Ottawa Animation Film Festival in 1976 and met Derek through Janet Perlman who was showing Mrs. Fishbourne’s Guide to Table Manners. From then through the ‘90s, I sat through many a film festival screening and shared many a meal with Janet and Derek, and could always count on them for their wit and intelligence. I will miss Derek’s presence and good sense. I am enclosing the only photo I have of Derek (there are dozens of me and Janet) and we can see why. He was the one always taking the pictures!

Jamie Dawkins
Senior animator at Omation

My name is Jamie Dawkins and I’m a senior animator at Omation animation studio in southern California. I worked as an animator under Derek Lamb on a project for Street Kids International. Derek was a terrific man to work for. He was a mild mannered gentleman artist who was easy to work with. After over 20 years working as an character animator I can honestly say that bosses like Derek are not all that common. Also it was great knowing that the film was a really cool attempt to educate streetkids all over the world about the dangers of living on the streets. A worthwhile effort compared to a lot of the everyday junkfood for the mind that was being produced in Toronto at the time. His passing is a tremendous loss for the Canadian animation community.

Eli Noyes
President, Alligator Planet

I first met Derek Lamb at Harvard in 1965. I had just entered the Graduate School of Design across the street from the Carpenter Center, but frequently visited the film and animation department where Derek had just taken up the position of the animation teacher. The Carpenter Center was still only a year or so old and was feeling its way into how to teach media and how to teach animation. In one dark room loomed a huge Oxberry camera with all its dials and glistening controls. Outside in a smaller room, Derek had set up a whole bunch of light tables with Bolexes on poles staring down at them. The Oxberry was intimidating, but the Bolexes were friendly and accessible.

Derek had his students doing all sorts of different exploratory exercises, like animating coins, or animating pieces of paper and light chains on the lightbox that sat under each stand. He would then have students find little pieces of music or sound to sync up to their animations on the several moviolas that were available to anybody interested. It was hands-on filmmaking and animation. Everybody loved it. As well, Derek would show films from the National Film Board of Canada, or films of Robert Breer or Len Lye. Few of us had seen these films before and felt lucky to be not only exposed to the free thinking and experimentation that went into them, but also to be inspired by them to make our own. Animation of this sort was not mainstream, at least in the U.S. He also exposed us to films from Eastern European countries like Czechlovakia, Poland and Russia and showed us there was a wonderful world out there which he encouraged us to become part of.

Through it all was Derek’s delight at entertaining with clever stories, wonderful characters and innovative use of sound. His enthusiasm inspired us all. He not only told funny stories, but he played the guitar and sang as well, all with his dry wit and wonderful British accent.

This all feels like the old days now-before computers, before iPods, before Pixar, before Sesame Street, before MTV, before the invention of the VHS recorder, before film schools and CalArts. Norman McLaren was still at the Film Board making films by scratching on black leader. Pixillation was still an eye-popping concept. Nobody knew how you could make inanimate objects come to life by moving them frame by frame, and were astounded when they saw even our crude and simple student work.

I kept in touch off and on with Derek over the years and, whenever we met, was flooded once again with that enthusiasm and quirky humor about film and life that seemed to be part of his soul and had survived the explosion of media that has followed since then. I consider him a good friend and will miss him greatly.