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By Michael - July 9th, 2010 If you’re reading this site, then Jeff Kurtti will probably need little introduction. Disney fans like myself will most likely have an entire shelf filled with books that Jeff has authored, magazines with articles he has written, and DVDs that he has produced.
Jeff worked with Walt Disney Imagineering from 1987-1995, after which he became a freelance author and creative consultant. The DVD packages he has produced were, quite literally, the best that Disney has ever released. He’s written scads of books, including a number of art books for Disney and Pixar animated films as well as several key works about theme park history. His 1996 Disney Editions publication Since the World Began remains the single great officially-sanctioned look at the history of Walt Disney World. His latest work is Disneyland Through The Decades, released this year in honor of that park’s 55th anniversary.
Jeff was kind enough to contribute this story about working alongside Herb Ryman, at a time when Herb was an elder statesman of Disney Imagineering.
Herbie Ryman and the Myth of Walt Disney
In 1987, I was hired at Walt Disney Imagineering as a Coordinator in the Graphics Department for what was then called Euro Disneyland.
The glamorous offices were in a well-worn two-story light industrial building, perched on a hillside overlooking the L.A. River in the Grand Central Business Park in Glendale. Today, part of the Studios of KABC Television stand on this site.
Inside was a collection of mismatched cubicle dens, large rooms that house the separate “lands,” each supervised by their individual Show Producer. In a stroke of good luck, there was an empty cubicle in the Main Street area, and I was given a home there, to begin identifying and coding all of the graphic design needs throughout the new Magic Kingdom.
My first day there, the curious and the welcoming came by, including a funny elfin old man with a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face. I quickly connected the affable “Herbie” with the legendary Herb Ryman, and was simply stunned that such a legendary figure was in the cubicle just a few feet away from me. In these days at WDI, we still had Claude Coats, John Hench, Jack Ferges, and Adolfo Procopio in the building; we were frequently visited by Marc and Alice Davis, Ken Anderson, Harper and Flossie Goff, Harriet Burns, Bill Justice, Jimmy MacDonald, and so many other Disney Artists and Imagineers of great fame—at least to me!
Morning coffee with Herbie was a remarkable thing. He could speak with erudition about any number of topics, and loved to talk with a variety of people about all manner of subjects—often to the consternation of those charged with getting his work to a meeting or a presentation on time.
I came to learn that his talent as a raconteur was a part of his talent as an artist, a component of his process in translating ideas to evocative visual media. I think he genuinely liked people, and enjoyed the stimulation offered in his daily migrations around the building; observing, interacting, offering his insight or opinion, or in many cases recollections of earlier projects. Often it was his eyewitness account of solving a problem with Walt that offered a solution to what we had thought was a new problem.
For many of us, Herbie represented the links between Walt himself, and the very special new Park we were all part of trying to make, one that moved his design principles forward while respecting and elevating Walt’s ideas and dreams.
Sometimes, however, Herbie liked to kick the pedestal out from under himself.
One day I came to my cubicle to find about a dozen young Imagineers gathered in and around Herbie’s workspace. Half of them were smiling broadly. The other half bore expressions that ranged from bafflement to agony.
What I overheard from my office went something like this:
“Well, we realized very early on that as a collective of artists we wouldn’t have much success, but if we created a charismatic figure to act as our leader, we might deflect the unwanted attention and create more of a ‘creative scapegoat.’
“I mean, come on. ‘Walt Disney’? Did you ever hear a name that was more made-up? We created that whole persona to fit with the art forms we were pursuing, and to reflect the innovations our collective was cooking up. Did you really think that everything attributed to Walt Disney could really be the result of one man’s ideas?
“We hired an actor out of Central Casting, and he became our figurehead. The deal was exclusive and very secret—it was probably one of the best-kept secrets in Hollywood, and there are still agreements in effect that withhold the actor’s true identity.
“But about 1965, a lot of us were retiring or moving on, and there wasn’t a lot of desire to keep the charade going any more, so it seemed to make sense to let the whole thing go. I think that old fella is still out in the Motion Picture Country Home, clean-shaven and under an assumed name.”
The story went on in this vein, with detail layered carefully upon detail—fabrications woven with pieces of Walt’s genuine biography, so that every crazy element was grounded in an irrefutable fact. Herbie was so sincere and earnest, and such a consummate storyteller, that only that twinkle in his eye ever gave away his game.
I watched Herbie as his audience dispersed, some stunned and upset, others chuckling at the grandeur of his talespinning. Herbie looked at my bemused expression and grinned, and winked at me. “You see, Jeff,” he offered by way of explanation, “You kids think that once anyone hits fifty they lose their sense of humor.”
And off he went, on another round of afternoon visits.
Many thanks to Jeff for sharing this story!
JEFF KURTTI is a renowned cross-media storyteller recognized for his fluency in a variety of forms and formats. As an author of more than twenty-five books, a writer-director of award-winning documentaries, and a respected public speaker, host, and panel moderator, Kurtti is a recognized expert on pop culture and the entertainment industry. He is a consultant to several clients in the motion picture, theater, museum/exhibit and themed-entertainment industries. His newest book, Disneyland Through The Decades, has just been published by Disney Editions.
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By Michael - July 9th, 2010  Story sketch for Anna and the King of Siam by Herb Ryman, 1946 The adventures that Herbert Ryman had in his world travels were translated into paintings and sketches, which helped him get his position at Walt Disney Productions. But after eight years with Disney, those same travels would lead to Ryman’s departure from the Mouse House.
20th Century Fox was developing a film based on Margaret Landon’s 1944 novel Anna and the King of Siam. The film adaptation, starring Irene Dunne and Rex Harrison, was looking for artists with experience in Asian design; at the same time, Fox was facing labor issues within its own art department. While Herb’s experiences in Siam might have made him a natural choice to bring in to work on the film, another fact made the match of man and project too perfect to refuse. In his Oriental adventures, Ryman had become friendly with not only members of the Siamese royal court, but with Landon herself. His close friendship with the author, herself the basis of the eponymous “Anna” of “Anna and the King”, sparked his interest in the project.
Ryman, as had been mentioned, had something of a unique relationship with Walt Disney. They were friends, not merely colleagues; in all his years at the studio, Herb never had a contract. He would come and go as he pleased, and so it was that when he decided to go to Fox to work on Anna he merely went to Walt’s office and said he had to leave. Walt, as time will show, certainly bore no grudge, and he and Ryman remained friendly while Herb was away. In fact, and unbeknownst to Walt, the temporary loss of this valuable artist would pay off in spades in the long-term. It was, after all, at Fox where Herb was to meet many designers that he would help recruit later to build Walt’s first theme park.
 In this photograph of the 20th Century Fox art department are several individuals that would eventually prove crucial to the development of Disneyland and Walt Disney World. On the back row are Richard Irvine (3rd from left) and Marvin Davis (5th from left). On the second row, far left, is Ryman, and beside him is George Patrick. At Fox, Herb worked on a number of pictures including Forever Amber, Down to the Sea in Ships, David and Bathsheba, The Black Rose and The Robe. These lushly produced films gave Ryman something to sink his teeth into, with period settings that allowed him to turn his set and story sketches into truly illustrative pieces of art. The elaborate nature of these films kept him busy, too – such detailed scenes required far more pre-visualization than a typical picture.
 A design sketch for Forever Amber, 1947 While he was at Fox, Ryman continued his personal artistic endeavors. In fact, this is a noticeable thread throughout his life – no matter where he was working, or what he was doing, he still took his private art very seriously. While he certainly made the most of any assignment he was given on a commercial basis, his free time was devoted to his own self-expression though his watercolors and oil paintings.
 A design sketch for Down to the Sea in Ships, 1949 Herb’s time at 20th Century Fox would prove fruitful, not only for his work but for the contacts he would make. Because, after some time spent running away with the circus, Ryman would get a very unexpected and unique phone call. A request for a weekend of work that would change the world forever.
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By Michael - July 8th, 2010 
I was extremely pleased today to receive a copy of the latest edition of Didier Ghez‘s truly wonderful book series, Walt’s People: Talking Disney with the Artists who Knew Him. Volume Nine, available now in paperback or digital download, weights in at an impressive 541 pages. It’s great stuff, too!
The series, which began as an effort to reprint long-forgotten interviews of Disney artists and employees, has grown in scope. Aside from the great interviews, it now features other essays by well-known Disney historians. Here’s the list of contents for Volume Nine:
Foreword by John Culhane
Dave Smith: Thurston Harper
Ray Pointer: Berny Wolf
John Canemaker: Fanny Rabin about Art Babbitt
John Culhane: Art Babbitt
Tom Sito: Bill Melendez
Mark Langer: Ken O’Connor
John Canemaker: Thor Putman
John Culhane: Art Scott
Dave Smith: Ken Anderson
Christopher Finch and Linda Rosenkrantz: Ken Anderson
Christopher Finch and Linda Rosenkrantz: Les Clark
Christopher Finch and Linda Rosenkrantz: Jack Cutting
Robin Allan: Jack Cutting
Robin Allan: Bob Jones
Robin Allan: Joe and Jennie Grant
Floyd Norman: Three Disney Story Guys (Pete Young, Fred Lucky and Vance Gerry)
Jim Korkis: Margaret Kerry
Paul F. Anderson: Jack Ferges
Paul F. Anderson: Fred Joerger
Jim Korkis: The Secret Walt Disney Commercials
Michael Mallory: Paul Carlson
Didier Ghez: Paul Carlson
Floyd Norman: Just Finish that Darned Thing!
Didier Ghez: Victor Haboush
Julie Svendsen: Walt Peregoy
Floyd Norman: Disney’s “B” Movie
Alberto Becattini: Frank McSavage
Klaus Strzyz: Jack Bradbury + Mary Jim Carp
Klaus Strzyz: Bob Foster
Alberto Becattini: Bob Foster
Didier Ghez: Julie Svendsen
Göran Broling: Correspondence with Ollie Johnston
Clay Kaytis: Burny Mattinson
Didier Ghez: Tom Sito
It’s a treasure trove of Disney history and scholarship and, while it’ll be a while before I have time to do a full review, I guarantee that it’s worth your time. Besides, it has my name in the acknowledgments so that has to be worth your time and money!
Order now: Paperback / Digital Download
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By Michael - July 7th, 2010  Imagineering model of Mystic Manor for Hong Kong Disneyland, D23 Expo, 2009 Hey, remember when this was happening? Yeah, I keep forgetting too.
While we’re here, we might as well have a few more pictures…
 Storyboard art depicts the various show scenes in sequence from the Mystic Manor attraction  Storyboards depicting the second half of Mystic Manor’s show scenes  Model of Mystic Point land for Hong Kong Disneyland, featuring Mystic Manor and the Adventurers’ Club In the above model of “Mystic Point”, Mystic Manor is on the left and the new “Adventurers’ Club” is on the right. For reference, Adventureland is in the foreground, Toy Story Land is off-camera to the right, and “Grizzly Trail” is off-camera to the left.
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By Michael - July 7th, 2010  Slide Rock by Herbert Ryman, 1932 Despite his humble Midwestern beginnings, Disney artist and Imagineer Herbert Ryman eventually developed a love for world travel. Many of his early excursions were in the American southwest, where his road trips helped develop his artistic skills until his career took off at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer in 1932. The painting above, a scene from Arizona, is a result of those early travels. It would be his later globetrotting adventures, though, that would inform his worldview and help shape some of his work that is most relevant here – his conceptual paintings for EPCOT’s World Showcase in the 1970s and 80s.
Ironically, though, Ryman was initially somewhat chagrined at his lack of worldly experience. Working on the adaptation of Pearl S. Buck’s The Good Earth at MGM, he started to feel the call of the outside world. He’d worked so hard on creating these exotic scenes for various films, but that was just film fakery – Herb wanted to see these things first-hand.
Things came to a head in 1936. Ryman, fatigued by four years of nonstop work, was sketching set designs for Mutiny on the Bounty. A chance conversation with actor Donald Crisp led to an exhortation for young Ryman to take a break from his work and see a bit of the world while he was still young. Mulling this advice, Herb received that same day a letter from his cousin, Halvern Norris, who was serving in the American Foreign Service as Vice Consul to Siam. Norris was wrapping up his five-year stint in Bangkok, and in his lengthy letter he encouraged Ryman to pay a visit and see the sights. Satisfied with the import of this coincidence, Herb took leave from MGM and headed to the steamship office to book passage to Siam. He didn’t have to worry about paying; in his pocket at the time were thirteen paychecks from Metro, all uncashed because the workaholic Ryman had not been able to leave his office long enough to visit the bank.
It turned out that for the price of passage across the Pacific Ocean to Siam, Herb could take the long way there and in the process see the world. For no extra cost he was able to circumnavigate the globe, stopping in the Caribbean, Europe, and several other points before eventually reaching Bangkok. For someone worried about his lack of travels, Ryman was about to catch up in high style.
 From Ryman’s sketchbook comes this study of the Ponte Sant’Angelo in Rome After circling the globe, with many stops along the way, Ryman reached Siam. While his adventures there were too innumerable to list here, it led to a number of fascinating and coincidental meetings. Prominent diplomats. Artists. Authors. The royal family. The Peking Man. It had to be pretty exciting for a young guy from Illinois. But, like so many young people in extraordinary times, Ryman wouldn’t really understand the full import of his travels until later. He didn’t realize, at the time, what was really happening around him as he trekked through Indochina – the first stirrings in the east that would eventually lead to a World War.
 The Junk Loading Rice, Pak Nam – Gulf of Siam, 1936 But these concerns weren’t on Herb’s mind. In his travels from 1936-37, he saw everything that he could possibly fit in to his itinerary. Despite the fact that the world was a much larger and stranger place in those days, though, even in the distant outposts of the Orient people knew about Hollywood. And, whenever locals would find out Herb worked in pictures in Hollywood, he was invariably asked about one person. Not any of the legends of MGM, where he actually worked – Garbo, Gable, or even Lassie. Everyone wanted to know one thing: Did Herb know Walt Disney?
He didn’t. But, after answering truthfully a few times and seeing the resultant disappointment and instant disinterest from curious strangers, Ryman decided to give the people what they wanted. “Yes, I know Walt Disney!”
Don’t be too hard on Herb – his harmless white lie was only a year or so distant from being 100% true.
 “Four Faces of Siba”, 1936, was the product of a lengthy side-trip to Angkor Wat From Siam, Ryman traveled northward to Japan, where the creeping hand of fascism led to a few uncomfortable interrogations at the hands of petty customs officials. A decision was made to visit China, despite the increasing chaos brewing in that country. Nationalist forces under Chiang Kai-Shek were faced with the prospect of battling Mao Tse-Tung and the communists to the west and invading Japanese troops to the east, but the situation was still stable in the major cities. Herb spent four months there in the village of Ba Ta Chu, in the hills outside Peking.
 Herb stands outside his lodgings in Ba Ta Chu, 1936 His time in China would be productive artistically as well as socially; it would also leave him with a full portfolio of artwork which, as we’ve mentioned, would lead to an exhibition at Chouinard in Los Angeles and, subsequently, his career at Disney.
 On the Long Trail, 1980 – “A watercolor painting done from the sketches made in my note books during that historic and critical winter of 1936-37 on the Gobi Desert and in Peking.” The circle of life, eh?
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The Progress City Primer
 From the Progress City archives comes this collection of 33 tall tales and true from Disney history. Available in paperback, hardback, and ebook formats. |
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