To conclude this quick overview of mine around the technical – and above all theoretical – foundations underlying the animator’s profession, and, together with it, this first section of articles of a general nature, I would like to focus on one of the most essential ingredients, but at the same time time also often misunderstood, or even misrepresented, among those that make up the basic equipment of every artist in animation (and not just animation) or aspiring one.

I am naturally referring to talent, as anticipated in the title, of which I would like to try to redefine the fundamental aspect it has for every person who finds themselves in some way engaged in a creative or artistic activity (or job).

This is therefore not a topic that specifically and exclusively concerns the animation world (including not only animators, but also all the people in some way and in any position involved in the creation and artistic production in this sector), but which it extends to every creative, amateur, professional or industrial field, from music, to art, to design, to advertising, to publishing.

However, due to the distinctly industrial characteristics of movie production, and animation in particular, it is a very delicate and crucial topic, which is often oxymorically both overvalued and underestimated.

I would like to dedicate these reflections in particular to younger artists, who are just now starting to deal with the professional and industrial harsh reality, hoping to help them to better evaluate their own abilities and potential, dispelling some rituals and myths that have become consolidated over time in our little world, in particular – if you’ll excuse the metaphor – at its entrance doors, which are increasingly crowded, heavy, rusty and difficult to open.

In fact, in what I have called our “small magical world”, the term “talent” is much cited, emphasized, and often used inappropriately. We often read recruitment announcements like this: “we are looking for new talents for our Studio, for the in-site positions as xxx and yyy” or self-congratulatory statements from other large and small companies such as: “Our firm thanks all the wonderful irreplaceable talents who have allowed us to carry out our fantastic project xyxyxy” (perhaps not mentioning that many of these “irreplaceable talents” have already been fired pending a not very probable re-hiring for a hypothetical future production).

Much more often than one might think, this term – talent – is used as a euphemistic synonym of “skill“, rather than in its literal meaning of “particular intelligence, predisposition, ability and relevant intellectual gifts, especially as natural and intended for particular creative activities“

This is a only apparently minor verbal cheat, as those same companies that spend much of their words extolling the talent of their artistic crews, often do not disdain to treat those same people like any other workforce, always blackmailable and replaceable even if to just keep costs low and obtain higher profits.

It’s a  terminological issue, therefore, but not one to be underestimated, due to the devastating impact that certain apparently harmless words have on the personal experiences of artists and employees.

Therefore, we cannot fail to underline what should be absolutely obvious, namely that “talent” and “skill” are not synonymous at all, and are not interchangeable depending on the opportunity or context.

“Skill” represents the technical and executive toolbox that every person who works in a certain field must equip themselves with in order to be able to operate at their best in that field, and to be able to face, resolve and complete the tasks that come entrusted to them, or that he himself intends to achieve. In short, it is a gift that is not exclusive to the artists, but to anyone involved in a production or work process: an electrician will be considered more or less competent and qualified in his field to the extent that he is able to efficiently and correctly assemble/disassemble a junction panel, or to solder contacts, or put his hands in a live circuit without risking being electrocuted.

In the same way a musician must demonstrate that he knows how to play his instrument (or instruments) to perfection, and in the same way a chraracter animator must be able to move (and bring to life) the characters entrusted to him in a convincing, solid and flawless way.

Within these skills and abilities, there is always room for a wide range of greater or lesser levels, so the electrician mentioned above will be considered excellent, good or mediocre in his field based on his ability, speed and safety in repairing a faulty system; and the musician as well based on the technical quality of his performance and the ability to brilliantly overcome the most hidden difficulties and pitfalls of the score.

Likewise, the animator will be considered more or less “good” based on his ability to bring his character to life while respecting the director’s requests and, today more than ever, strictly respecting production times.

“Skills” are mainly abilities and attributes that can (and must) be learned, exercised and refined over time, and are in general tools available to anyone who wants to learn and apply them. They are also eminently dynamic qualifications, always destined to evolve over time not only in quality but also to adapt to the ever-changing professional scenarios: those who have started working as 2D animators may at some point have to work in the 3D field. If started with TV Paint, you may suddenly have to adapt your knowledge to work on Harmony or Maya.

In current language in today’s world of work, in any case, these are the minimum requirements necessary to aspire to access any “career”, at any level, where there is no longer any sliver of time or investment to dedicate to an internal training, and whoever is hired must immediately demonstrate that they have skills that are almost always superior to those actually required for the job offered.

This is a devastating vicious circle for the new generations who in this way really seem to have no chance of entering the world of production, unless they have family ties or support that allow them to “jump the queue”. I can’t imagine anything more negative and unfair than this state of affairs, but I’ll stop here, because this is not the place to explore this topic which involves the general organization of our society.

I will limit myself to focusing on the evident paradox of the requirements that are demanded by some companies, even in our sector, such as we find in certain hiring notices that seem to require absolute excellence, worthy of a Nobel Prize, when in reality the job offered is often of low-level and ridiculously poorly paid.

In this regard, I would like to suggest – particularly to young artists – not to be intimidated by these bombastic announcements, and to look at the objective concreteness of the job offer. The “required requirements” of certain H.R. managers can almost never be met by anyone, if not by a very unlikely random coincidence, even in a period of shortage of demand like the current one, and companies must “make do” with what they can find on the real market, and not in their dreams. It is always good to remember that in any case if it is true that the artist “needs” the producer to work and survive, it is also true that the producer “needs” the artists to realize his projects, and it is not necessarily true that this “need” is less urgent than the other, on the contrary. As a producer, and as a director, I well remember my anxiety every time I had to find qualified artists available to work for the project that was under my responsibility.

The producer, in my opinion, almost always needs the artist more than the latter needs the producer, because, believe me, an artist could one day be a producer, while a producer can never be an artist, and it is it is on this basis that the relationship should be set up, even by a young person with still limited demonstrable experience in his CV. Not only because experience can only be accumulated with experience, and therefore it is a path that must be completed in any case, but also because in this climb, very hard and demanding especially at the beginning, it is necessary to know how to select very carefully the steps and the handholds on which one relies to advance. It is necessary, especially at the beginning, to allow oneself the “luxury” of choosing, avoiding projects that are very low profile, of little interest, or poorly conceived, or unclear, which would end up slowing down rather than encouraging the climb – i.e. the career.

And above all, never, never ever give in to the calls of “free collaboration” behind the promise of “making a better CV” or “having visibility”. Companies of a good level never risk their reputation with these dubious and legally borderline methods, so they are almost always, if not always, tricks that some unscrupulous producers adopt to carry out their projects with little economic risk: it is necessary to be strongly wary on these swindlers, and in any case it is more productive to invest your time to enrich your portfolio with personal projects and proposals that can truly demonstrate your abilities, rather than getting involved – without compensation – in some often low-grade job that will never belong to you anyway, and which, at best, is destined to boost someone else’s career.

Having said this, however, the point that I find most relevant to point out here is how all these dynamics, which belong to what we could define as the sphere of ability, competence, skill, are often too lightly attributed, in good and sometimes in bad faith, as we have seen, to the context of talent: this term instead means something very different.

Rather, it is a strictly individual and personal gift, unique and irreproducible, like a digital fingerprint, with which we are (more or less, or not at all) naturally, innately gifted. And over which we therefore have minimal, if not zero, possibilities of control and improvement.

It is therefore not simply a series of technical tools learned or skills acquired, but one’s own particular propensity or elective affinity towards a particular activity or form of expression.

Typically it is something that cannot be taught or learned, but is rather something that guides us, or even irresistibly pushes or attracts us towards a particular pole of interest, and which represents in our life choices a powerful stimulus and reinforcement to start certain paths and achieve certain goals.

To give an example in the musical sphere, a person normally endowed with a good sensitivity, or perhaps encouraged by a favorable cultural and social environment, will be able to brillantly complete regular studies and training at the conservatory and become a recognized and appreciated musician or instrumentalist, and even achieve results of absolute excellence. Just as, starting from a different personal story, he could have become a successful writer, or a lawyer, or an engineer, or a doctor… Or an electrician.

A person with a natural talent for music, on the other hand (and I chose music because in this area the function of talent has always had a particularly strong and unequivocal impact) feels literally devoted right from the beginning to this expressive area, to which he feels infallibly and ineluctably that he belongs. He could have done nothing else in life, and he is ready to face any sacrifice, adversity, social or material difficulty in order to have access to it.

At the same time, talent works as a sort of catalyst, making it relatively “easy” for him to achieve goals that normally require much greater investments of time and energy for any other person. As a result, his chances of achieving excellence are objectively much higher than average.

Unlike abilities or skills, talent is an attribute that belongs almost exclusively to the exercise of the arts and creative activities, whatever they may be.

It is true that in common language the ability of other professional figures who prove to be particularly gifted in their field is often defined as “talent”. For example, a lawyer who manages to win all or almost all of his cases can be defined as “talented”, just like a surgeon who manages to excel on the surgical table. However, no matter how high the skills in the field and how prestigious the position is, in these cases we always remain within the scope of personal “ability” in carrying out specific and highly specialized tasks. And in fact the category of art in these cases is used only in the sense of metaphor: an open heart operation can be defined as a “work of art” due to its perfection and elegance of execution, but it remains confined in the field of science, physics and of biology: the field of “spirit” is closed to it, I would say almost by definition.

Here the discussion would become very intricate, entering into philosophical, aesthetic and epistemological issues that go beyond this brief analysis of mine; and on the other hand I don’t think I have the appropriate scientific tools and expertise to delve deeper into this matter.

I would say, greatly simplifying, that no one is “born” a lawyer, or a surgeon, while some of us possess a special gift (which can sometimes seem like a curse, but that’s another story) that has led them to “born” a musician, or a writer, or an actor… Or an animator.

How this is possible and how it actually happens remains largely an unknown issue, in the sense that rationality alone is not entirely sufficient to “explain” the phenomenon. But it is so, and this is confirmed by the fact, for example, that in some – certainly very rare – moments in history someone is “born” into this world to be Mozart, or Paul McCarthy, or Raphael, or Picasso, or Dante, or Joyce.

But here we are within the scope of what we can define in all respects as “genius”, which in reality we can define as the maximum and extreme expression of talent, thereby at the same time guaranteeing a measurable dimension to the phenomenon. In the sense that talent, as it can exist in this extreme form, exists in a whole range of gradations, from the highest to the lowest. While maintaining, please note, the same character – and name – of “talent”.

And this will be the subject of our next conversation.

20 – Talent: Skill or Genius? (Part II)