Ottawa 02 International Animation Festival. (Vancouver).

"I don't make films," quietly proclaims Polish animator Pitor Dumala. "I discover them." Before a captive audience at the Ottawa Courts Library, Dumala demonstrates his signature techniques on a flat slab of plaster. By recarving one image after another directly under the camera, he infuses his films with a fluctuating, ethereal quality--a style that somehow reinvents itself with each passing frame. That same spirit of spontaneous innovation was also evident in the opening ceremonies at the National Arts Centre for the Ottawa 02 International Animation Festival (OIAF), with the presentation of "the world's first performance of live optical sound"--an animated orchestra, as it were. Headed by Richard Reeves and Ellen Bessen, the group Scratch Track projected a freshly hand-painted 16 mm filmstrip on--screen backed by the snaps, crackles and pops of an optical sound-track being manually pulled back and forth past a projector's sound bulb. "Similar to DJs with their turntables," enthused Reeves. "Just such raw e nergy on--screen." Very nice, very nice, as the late, great NFB animator Arthur Lipsett would have said.

With packed houses at the screenings and standing--room capacity at 28 workshops, not only did Ottawa 2002 set new records for attendance, but it also redefined itself in other directions. "I got a little sick and tired of seeing the same old Sjvankmajer, Quay Brothers, McLaren that you see at festivals," admitted Chris Robinson, OIAF director. "I went an extra step to find people within the circle of the animation world not as well known. So this year's retrospectives focused on such lesser--known talents such as Dumala, David Ehrlich and Peter Woloshen--a Montreal avant--gardist who had been painting directly on film for 20 years in relative obscurity. He even admitted to not knowing of the festival's existence until recently "because I hide a lot."

Complementing such exposure in competition was the addition of the non--narrative category. "Certainly with the big four or five animation festivals, we're the first to do it," says Robinson. "It simply did not make sense for narrative stories to compete with non--narrative. They're different animals." This once again put into the spotlight the rough--around--the--edges spontaneity of films like Reeves's own 1:1 and Woloshen's Ditty Dot Comma and Bru Ha Ha!, as well as the simple, but mesmerizing digital motifs of Adrian Lokman's play of light and shadow in Barcode. Even the narrative films were pushing their own boundaries. Pjotr Sapegin's Aria took a new twist on Gilbert and Sullivan's Madame Butterfly, where the lead character undergoes an act of stop--motion deconstruction, by literally baring its own armature. Christopher Hinton's Flux (which won for Best Narrative Short) takes a skewed look at a domestic dilemma, splattering its erratic inksplotch characters across the screen in a result that's half--ca rtoon, half--Rorschach test.

Two awards for humour, as well as a special jury mention were given to Andrew Home's Leunig: How Democracy Actually Works, a one--minute expose about where our civic votes actually go, although the biggest laughs and cheers went to Igor Lazin's The Little Cow, featuring a small cow swinging and singing in a tree for three minutes straight (that's it). Mixing humour and pathos went a long way in Tornehekken (Best Film for Children), a touching Norwegian cut--out film about the effects of wartime on childhood, as well as in the British commercial Cartoon (winner for Best Commissioned). Featuring a squash--and-squeeze figure bullied to death by his abusive live--action father, it effectively contrasted Tex Avery--inspired antics with real--life domestic violence. Finally, a well--deserved Grand Prize went to Robert Bradbrook's Home Road Movies. Combining live action with airbrushed Popular Mechanics illustrations, it delves into the relationship between a father and the family car, reminiscent of the art deco pa rody paintings of New Yorker artist, Bruce McCall.

The only downside to this year's competition was the category of television series. Entertaining as they were, given the wide exposure Teacher's Pet and SquareBob SpongePants can get on YTV or Teletoon, such episodes seemed an unnecessary commercial intrusion into the festival's more independent spirit; although, Genndy Tartakovky's Samurai Jack (Best Television Series) works very well on the big screen. Nonetheless, it provided a well--deserved showcase for animation's wild man John Kricfalusi. Featuring commercials, Webtoons and episodes of Ren & Stimpy and Mighty Mouse too raunchy or politically incorrect for the networks, the screening displayed yet another edge to this year's festival, that of uncensored comic revelry, free of all the liberal constraints of good taste. You hasn't lived ntil you see Yogi and Ranger Smith engage in a man--to--bear wrestling match coloured in realy homoerotic overtones in Boo Boo Runs Wild. Kricfalusi himself perhaps summed it all up best: "Cartoons are meant to be fun. San ta Claus never feels guilty. He doesn't give asparagus for Christmas."