'You Might Remember This'

‘You Might Remember This’

Jeff Scher presents his animated art.

Tags:

childhood, fathers, Memory, parents, sons

In 2007 I posted an animated portrait of my son Buster’s first years called “You Won’t Remember This.” “You Won’t Remember This Either,” covering the toddler years but featuring my younger son, Oscar, followed in 2009. This new film continues the series and features Buster from ages six to 10. While these films portray childhood, the perspective is parental. If Buster had made this film it would be all baseball, and the actual point of view, looking up at grownups twice his size, would surely feature more chins and nostrils. The angle might seem a small thing, but it can alter the feeling in subtle ways. Looking at children, our perspective is angled down and as they look up, we see eyes, those big ones, looking up like lasers. And, like every portrait, these films are double portraits, simultaneously reflecting the sensibility of who made them as well as who they picture.

The slice of childhood depicted here makes it feel like we’re creeping up on the middle of our journey together. The bubble of babyhood has burst and there have been great leaps in physical prowess, but the shell of adulthood has not yet hardened and the children remain vulnerable. As parents, we remain indispensable, but the intoxicating and scary scent of future independence is in the air. School is at the center of most days, and the balance between social and academic development and the need to just be a kid swings back and forth constantly. Being a parent has similar conflicts: while I’m insisting he do his homework, I’m wishing we were fishing, too. But we’ve both signed on to be (or become) functional citizens, and the homework gets done.

All three films are about memory, which I like to think of as single grains of sand culled from the steady flow in the hourglass of our life and turned to pearls, to be strung and locked away where they wait, slowly fading. Buster might actually remember some of the moments depicted in this film; some he might remember because of this film. I will remember them all, having now engraved them in memory with crayon, paint and pencil.

Shay Lynch’s score indispensably compliments the film’s emotions and rhythms. It was remarkable to hear the piece evolve from a spare piano rhythm to a fully orchestrated work. I suggest it be played nice and loud, through good speakers.