In an ironic turn, Tower Bawher, which deals with the uneasy relationship between art and state, was caught in the Russian bureaucracy over copyright issues.

Bertrand showed the film around the NFB and everyone was impressed. There was just one problem — no one could determine who owned the copyrights to the music. Sviridov died in 1998 and, according to a Copyright Canada document, dated Sept. 13, 2005: “the person who inherited his copyright has since passed away… (and) that the copyright entitlement over the works of Sviridov is the object of a dispute before the Russian civil courts that will not be resolved for some time yet.” After Copyright Canada rejected the application, the NFB decided to negotiate directly with the Russians.

“It became a nightmare,” says Ushev, “but the NFB helped me enormously. Their entire legal department was involved into the process. It is really incredible how difficult is to deal with the Russians. Everything that seems easy becomes complicated. So, even when the bureaucrats tease an artist, he cannot live without them. It is like a family, they hate each other, but cannot live without. And the next morning are in love again.”

Fortunately, the copyright issues — which somehow seem appropriate for a film that, in part, deals with the uneasy relationship between art and state — were solved just in time for Tower Bawher to have its world premiere at the Ottawa 2005 International Animation Festival last September.

Ushev credits the NFB for more than just taking on Tower Bawher: “Before starting at the NFB, animation was a hobby for me. I made Internet movies, put them online and forgot about them. Suddenly I felt responsible. I couldn’t do this movie if I was not working at NFB. If there were not people at the NFB like Marcel Jean, Marc Bertrand, Christine Noël, and Michèle Bélanger, it couldn’t happen.”

“Tower Bawher was a therapy,” admits Ushev, who moved to Canada from Bulgaria in 1999. “I did it to cure myself from my memories. Every child of an artist tries to escape from his mighty shadow, and to create his own world. And almost no child can do it.”

Tower is more than just a search for self and an ode to a father. It is also a tribute to those artists who continually struggle to escape from the ominous and numbing shadows of bureaucracy and censorship. It’s appropriate that Tower Bawher has become an NFB film. For more than 60 years, the NFB has struggled, successfully and unsuccessfully, with that precarious relationship between artist and bureaucrat. And, really, it’s the struggle that counts. It’s the struggle that’s life.

I’m a big fan of coincidence. As I sit here writing this text on Jan. 31, 2006, a package just arrived. Inside is Ushev’s latest NFB film, The Man Who Waited. Including his upcoming children’s film, this is Ushev’s third film in under a year. Based on a Franz Kafka story, The Man Who Waited continues Ushev’s quest for truth. It’s like the man said: “I can’t go on, I’ll go on.”

Chris Robinson has been with the Ottawa International Animation Festival since 1991. A noted animation critic, curator and historian, he has become a leading expert on Canadian and international independent animation. His acclaimed OIAF programming has been regarded as both thoughtful and provocative. In May 2004, Robinson was the recipient of the President’s Award given by the New York chapter of animators for contributions to the promotion of independent animation.

His books include Between Genius and Utter Illiteracy: A Story of Estonian Animation, Ottawa Senators: Great Stories from the NHL’s First Dynasty, Unsung Heroes of Animation, Great Left Wingers, and Stole This From a Hockey Card: A Philosophy of Hockey, Doug Harvey, Identity & Booze.

An anthology of Robinson’s Animation Pimp columns will be published in 2006. He is currently working on Fathers of Night, a novel about angels, devils and everything in-between. Robinson lives in Ottawa with his wife, Kelly, and son, Jarvis.