Heinz Edelmann (left) greets animator Bill Plympton at the opening reception of “The Masters Series: Heinz Edelmann” exhibition at School of Visual Arts in New York. Unless otherwise indicated, all images courtesy of School of Visual Arts.

If he did nothing else beyond serving as the driving creative force behind the Beatles’ animated fantasia Yellow Submarine, Heinz Edelmann would still deserve a place of honor in the Cartoon Hall of Fame.

Edelmann’s close to 50-year career as an artist and graphic designer is all but unknown in the United States. At times based in London, Germany or Holland, the Czech-born Edelmann has amassed a body of work that (in addition to that one particular cartoon) includes posters, book covers and magazine illustrations. (For a taste of his illustrative style, take a close look at Submarine’s opening title cards.)

Heinz Edelmann recently journeyed to New York city to accept the School of Visual Arts’ annually bestowed Masters Series Award. Slowed but far from stymied by a series challenges to his health and mobility, Edelmann sat down to discuss his career, artistic vision — and that one particular cartoon.

Heinz Edelmann: The way I’ve been received here in New York is truly extraordinary. I did not deserve this, but of course flattery always goes down well.

Joe Strike: No, I will flatter you and say yes you do. Did you have any experience with animation prior to Yellow Submarine?

HE: When I was in Germany in the 1960s I shot about one minute of my own production. At that time everyone was into politics, so for a long time I worked on a project called “The Nazi Salute Considered as a Phallic Symbol.” It had a lot of one-armed people carrying that arm in a violin case.

JS: I never saw it.

HE: It never got made, I just shot one minute and realized I didn’t have the experience.

JS: How did you become involved in Yellow Submarine?

HE: The invitation came out of the blue. Charlie Jenkins, the movie’s special effects man was married to a German girl who’d seen my work in German magazines. Jenkin’s boss, George Dunning [Submarine’s director] was the one who extended the invitation.

I went to London and asked, “What do you want me to do, am I to do the characters?” “No,” they said, “We’ve got somebody to do the characters.” “Will I do the backgrounds?” “No,” Dunning said, “We’ve got somebody already.” I thought, well, this will make a great job. Dunning said “You just do the little odd things you do.”

I hung around for about two months getting more and more frustrated. There was no script. They started on a storyboard and abandoned it and considered dozens of people to do new script. Finally the day of the presentation to the producer rolled around and these being all archetypical Englishmen, they religiously followed the tradition of the long weekend.

Attendees of “The Masters Series: Heinz Edelmann” exhibition at School of Visual Arts view the artist’s work.

They all went away and said “Just do something over the weekend, do Davy Jones’ Locker” [a sequence that later evolved into the Sea of Monsters]. For some reason I thought this was a very hateful idea. There is a similar character in German called the Klabautermann [a spirit protecting ships from harm] that I’d always hated. I just didn’t like the idea. I’d go home to my wife and tell her, “It’s high time I quit and go home. I’ll just leave them a souvenir.” Then I sat down and did the Meanies.

I’d already done a character similar to the Glove so I just gave the Glove the jet propulsion. I thought well, here’s your hand, let me go home. Somehow, to his credit the producer [Al Brodax] liked it.

JS: You knocked off a whole bunch of characters and concepts over this weekend?

HE: The glove I already had back home, the Turks and the Apple Bonkers were new, the men with the guns in their shoes —