Fred Seibert's Blog

Nickelodeon Logo Logic - Upload a Document to Scribd

Tom Corey, Scott Nash, and Alan Goodman are the key guys in the Nickelodeon logo saga.

Back in the day my partner Alan Goodman and I were known as the logo guys. It was both flattering and annoying, because we’re not designers and it deflected attention from the brilliant people we worked with often, like Manhattan Design (Frank Olinsky, Pat Gorman, and Patti Rogoff) and Corey & Co. But after we became known as the group who developed (not designed) the MTV logo, our reps were set in stone for a while. Eventually we were able to morph it into the idea of developing media brands, which more accurately reflected how Alan and I thought of ourselves.

After setting the vocabulary (more important than design in many ways) and “look” of MTV Alan and I left MTV Networks to set up our independent Fred/Alan Inc. and our first client was… MTV Networks. By 1984, the five year old Nickelodeon was in trouble, having lost an accumulated $40 million (that’s in 1980’s money, like $200 million today) and worse, it was the absolute lowest rated cable network in America. Dead last. MTVN chief Bob Pittman asked Alan and I to help. It was a tough decision for us to make since we were broke but had no interest in children’s television or the people who worked in it. The ‘broke’ part won out.

The key decisions we made:

• Keep the name “Nickelodeon.”
We figured that 10,000,000 kids (there current circulation) knew the name and what it stood for. Management wanted to switch to “Nick,” since it was easier to spell and say; let’s forget that everyone outside the company would wonder why they were named after a garage mechanic. There were a lot of reasons for killing it: no one under a certain age had ever heard of a nickelodeon, and those who had knew it had nothing whatsoever to do with children; the word was hard to spell correctly in the age of pre-Google and spellcheck; and, the word was way too long and thin to dominate a television screen.

• Treat the network like an exclusive club, where only kids could join, not like a TV station with all kids shows.
Kids in June of 1984 (when we started work) needed something they could call their own. They felt on the rear end of life, they told us so constantly. Adults (parents and teachers) made all the decisions for them. TV in the 80s wasn’t for them. They were scared of getting older, but their unconscious biology kept egging them on to age faster.

• Ban the word “FUN” from the Nickelodeon vocabulary.
Every network promo told the kids that Nickelodeon was fun. It wasn’t. We thought it was better to be “fun” than say “fun.”

• Redesign the logo.
Famous television designer, a moonlighting Lou Dorfsman, had designed the logo in 1981, and our brilliant friend Bob Klein had added a silver ball that zoomed around the screen in and out of everything a kid might find exciting. Alan and I didn’t find it exciting.

We’d been working a lot with a new friend, Tom Corey, who owned Corey & Co. (tragically, Tom’s passed away, his companies are now called Corey McPherson Nash & Big Blue Dot)in Boston. He came down to the Fred/Alan office in New York with his partner Scott Nash and heard our pitch for the network. we told them about our decisions I talked about above, and told them while we didn’t know anything about kids’ programming we knew that the offices of Nickelodeon were as quiet as a chapel (as one of the internal wags put it) and that in order to spice the place up we hoped that when our jobs were done they’d all be shooting spitballs at each other. Tom and Scott dug in eagerly.

I wish I had their presentation. It was pretty informal –a bunch of logos sketched on a page– and none any of us were all that crazy about. Eventually, we settled on one that was 3D in nature that revolved around itself, and kind of a standard designer treatment of a trademark. We were about to settle when Alan spoke up and said he didn’t think it was in keeping with our reputation as moving image thinkers about logos.

The MTV logo had been sold in with two thoughts. 1) Rock’N’Roll was a dynamic constantly changing medium and a logo should have a built in updating mechanism. And 2) More importantly, television was moving pictures. Logos were generally designed by print designers who wanted a perfect image, then handed off to moving image designers who had to figure out how to make the damn thing move. Often, it ended up with a big hunk of metal hurtling through space, cause what else were they going to do? We’d argued that in the 1980s that was a dumb thing to do. Why not just design a logo with movement baked into the conceptual frame right from the beginning? TV was the most important place to see the logo, and print designers could just *STOP* the motion and pick an image for an ad; it would be more dynamic even in the print that way.

Alan pointed out that’s how we’d made our bones, and besides were right, darn it. Movement was the way to go, constant change made for a energetic network, and kids were the most vital force in the world. Give them something they relate to: change. He was looking at the orange splat on their page. Tom and Scott argued that orange generally clashed with everything and that would make the logo stand out (as long as we didn’t let designers try and make it work “correctly.”) The splat could morph into any image we liked. And it wasn’t the MTV version of change. I came along for the ride that Tom, Scott, and Alan were proposing, and we trucked over to Bob Pittman’s and Gerry Laybourne’s office to make the pitch.

Bob and Gerry didn’t buy it. No one else there did either. “It doesn’t match anything.” “It’s flat.” “It’s not as cool as the MTV logo, what happened to you guys?”

Ultimately, we prevailed. I’m not really sure how, since all their objections were right on. But we were the “logo guys,” so they eventually bought our action. I’m thrilled they did, since our work with Nickelodeon is some of my favorite stuff in our careers. Tom and Scott went on to be among the premiere designers in television and kids (Scott’s now one of the leading children’s book authors and illustrators), Alan’s a successful producer and brand strategist (still consulting Nickelodeon), and they all deserved the accolades the world could throw at them.

(By the way, the book Nickelodeon Logo Logic was put together in 1998 by the in-house creative services department after Alan and I had stopped full time consulting to the company six years before. The company had expanded so dramatically and so many people had trademark needs that without us –the “logo police”– around they needed some objective rules set down for designers and marketers to follow. I’m not so sure we’d agree with all their points but a trademark is a dynamic thing. Different people interpret it different ways, kind of like a musical composition, and it’s natural it’ll be looked at in new ways over the years.)

Blog History of Frederator’s original short cartoons.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.
Part 7. Part 8. Part 9.

After trying, and failing, to convince Nickelodeon to go “back to the future” of animation, and use classic cartoon style shorts to create their innovative entry into the animated programming biz (they did better than great without me), my company continued to consult cable TV networks on branding and advertising.

“So,” said Scott Sassa, President of Ted Turner’s entertainment networks, “do you want to come out to Hollywood and run Hanna-Barbera for us?”

Was he crazy?!

I’d been a jazz record producer, a cable television promotion executive, and a marketing and branding entrepreneur; one thing I certainly was not was a producer of cartoons. Sure, I’d had my hand in making a few TV series, but they were mainly run by my partners, Alan Goodman and Albie Hecht. And it was clear I loved cartoons; I often loudly proclaimed that my childhood of cartoon watching was the best preparation for the groundbreaking work we did with rock’n’roll and television on MTV. But, actually make the cartoons? How was I supposed to do that? I knew next to nothing about cartoon production, I knew absolutely nothing about scripts and stories, and I knew nothing about how Hollywood worked. And Hollywood was the home of Hanna-Barbera Productions, and one of the reasons Ted Turner wanted to studio to begin with.

The announcement of my becoming President of Hanna-Barbera Productions was made the day of the LA riots in April of 1992; I started full time in June. Shown my giant corner office, originally built as Bill Hanna’s when the building opened in 1961, I was so frightened I didn’t sit at the custom built desk for over six months; I just parked myself on one corner of Bill’s couch and just shivered every day as studio staff and others came in one by one wanting something resembling smarts from me.

But unlike some of my friends and colleagues, I loved Hanna-Barbera. Especially the great early years, when Joe Barbera and his crack team invented Huckleberry Hound, Yogi, The Flintstones and the others, and Bill Hanna streamlined the animation production systems into the unlimited imagination of limited animation (thanks Billll Burnett). And I remembered the charge I’d been getting for the fifteen years I’d been traveling to Los Angeles and passing that great building with the “HANNA-BARBERA” sign up on the top.

And, I had this nutty idea about shorts.

(More next time.)

Blog History of Frederator’s original short cartoons.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.
Part 7. Part 8. Part 9.

Blog History of Frederator’s original short cartoons.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.
Part 7. Part 8.

Our career making cartoons was over before it began. We continued to consult on cable network branding and promoting Nickelodeon’s first original slate of animation, but it looked that our idea of using shorts to find the new generation of stars was going to be another one of those ‘coulda been’ things.

Alan Goodman and I had been involved in more than 10 years of building, branding, and programming cable TV networks and we were a little bored by it. Everyone wanted to know our secrets, but were more interested in paying for programming than branding. Never shy, I kept whining and by February of 92 we were completely exasperated at an endless, annoying negotiation with MTV Networks; we woke up on a Tuesday morning and announced the end of our company after 12 years. No plans, no nothing, just please make it stop.

The very next morning Scott Sassa, then the President of Ted Turner’s entertainment networks (eventually President of the NBC Television Network) and always on top of the best gossip, called and told me he’d heard about our closing, reminding me that Turner had just purchased the venerable Hanna-Barbera cartoon studio. Half listening I glanced down at my cartoon watch; it was 10:35am and, believe it or not, at 12 was Fred Flinstone, 3 was Yogi Bear, 6 was Scooby, and 9 was Huckleberry Hound! (It’s not the watch up above, by the way. When I find it, I’ll snap a pic and replace it.)

“So,” says Scott, “do you want to come out to Hollywood and run Hanna-Barbera for us?”

(More next time.)

Blog History of Frederator’s original short cartoons.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.
Part 7. Part 8.

Blog History of Frederator’s original short cartoons.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.
Part 7.

When we last left off our story (before yesterday’s philisophical diversion), in 1989 Nickelodeon had decided that our idea of doing 1940s styled short cartoons was mostly wrong, but kind of right. Instead, against current TV tradition, using our advice they were going to pilot animated series with off-the-beaten-track, alternative animation studios. They offered my company, Fred/Alan, one of the first pilots.

Nickelodeon’s programming executive sent over their deal memo as promised. I took a look at it and called him back.

“So I see there are ten deal points.”

“Yes,” the network executive said.

“And the first is that if you’re unhappy with our work –our work on our original cartoon– you can fire us at any time and replace us with a producer of your choice. On our cartoon.”

“Yes.”

Now, I was used to the fact that the world had changed when it came to the business of cable television. In traditional broadcasting (CBS, NBC, & ABC), because of a bunch of arcane legal mumbo jumbo, it was common practice that a network could not own any part of a program, the producer owned it all. Cable was not bound by any ownership restrictions, and it was already common practice that the network could own everything, the producer nothing, and if you wanted your show on the air that was the deal. We didn’t particularly like it, but we had accepted it as the way business was done. But, we didn’t much like the idea that a punk executive like the one we were dealing with enjoyed rubbing it our faces so much. I mean, OK you own it all you control it all you can tell us what to do and you can fire us at any time. But, gimme a break; at least make it point 7 of 10. Don’t humiliate us with your power right up top.

With the permission of my partners Alan Goodman and Albie Hecht I asked, “Have you ever heard the sound of paper ripping over the telephone?”

Our career in cartoons was over before it began.

(More next time.)

Blog History of Frederator’s original short cartoons.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.
Part 7.

We’ve started 21 shorts in this season of Oh Yeah! Cartoons, and I met 9 of the 15 creators in their pitches over the last year or so (that’s 60% for the mathematically inclined). I only mention this statistic to counter the impression I sometimes leave on this blog that I’ve known everyone forever. I love meeting and working with new people; it’s the lifeblood of how I do what I’ve done for my working life.

Now, the other side of this startling fact is that once I become a fan of someone it’s great to work with them over a long period of time, through various phases and ebbtides of life. I try to be a loyal collaborator; I think it has served everyone well.

All of which leads to my full disclosure that I’ve worked with Alan Goodman for 35 years, and now he’s making his first Oh Yeah! cartoon with Nickelodeon New York animator and comic book artist Manny Galan. I won’t bore you with all the details, but suffice it to say that I met Alan in college radio, did my first moving picture work on his student films, was partners with him for several years, and he’s my brother-in-law. Along the way he’s been a journalist, ad writer, TV series creator, and my most constant creative confederate.

I’m thrilled beyond description that Alan and I have found another great way to work together.

Photography by Elena Seibert. Hand coloring by Candy Kugel. See, I was too skinny once.

Blog History of Frederator’s original short cartoons. Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.

It’s been a couple of months, but these are my sporadically continuing postings of how we starting producing original cartoons. As usual, feel free to interrupt with any questions.

So, Nickelodeon was not going to exactly follow my suggestions as to how they should get into original animation? So, I was frustrated beyond belief? So, what was I going to do about it?

Nothing.

We weren’t in the animation business. Sure Fred/Alan had a small production company run by our college friend Albie Hecht, and sure, we wanted to produce anything we could, including cartoon shows. But, our main business was network consulting, branding, and advertising, and the animation we were involved with was mainly 10 second network IDs and commercials. And it sure wasn’t the first time our clients had ignored our advice and gone their own way. But, as usual, it wasn’t completely their own way, and they felt like they were following what they saw as the best part of our approach. As we had inculcated into their culture, the network would go off the beaten path looking for skilled talent who could make fresh, animated series that wouldn’t look or feel anything like the mainstream (i.e. Hanna-Barbera), without sacrificing quality. The shows might have a new look, but they’d follow classic entertainment values, they’d include great characters and great stories. And instead of relying only on an in-office pitch, they’d make short pilots to see whether the final film would really ’sing’ before committing to a series.

Fine, I thought. A tenth of a loaf is better than none, better than the times they ignored us completely. And besides, the network production executive was on the phone offering us a deal to make one of the pilots!

Usually we jumped at these kind of phone calls, but this time I was unsure. As I had told Debby and Anne at the very first breakfast, we knew nothing about character based cartoon shows, and while my partners Alan and Albie would probably vehemently disagree (Let’s get a shot at fiction! Any shot!), I felt like it was too complicated for us to come up with an idea, write it, and find one of our animator friends to execute. I told this to the executive, he flatteringly disagreed, and I said send over the deal memo.

(More next time.)

Blog History of Frederator’s original short cartoons. Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.

Manny and Alan came back to our New York office to show us their storyboard on Bronk & Bongo.

Thanks again to Manny & Alan for their kind permission to show some of their storyboard.

Oh Yeah! Cartoons, started in 1998, but our minds were on original cartoons as far back as the 80s.

Blog History of Oh Yeah! Cartoons. Part 1. Part 2.

Nickelodeon loved our idea for animation shorts. So they changed it all around.

(A short aside. Alan and I had been among the original employees at MTV Networks, parent of Nickelodeon. As the first creative directors, we established the whole promotion/brand/logo scheme for MTV, and, humbly, we carried some clout at the company. When we struck out on our own and set up Fred/Alan, MTVN’s Bob Pittman hired us back as consultants. Sounded great.

We quickly found out that consultants are often respected and listened to. Sort of. Over the years I’ve come to see that a consultant will come up with a ‘Big Idea’ for his/her client, which I liken to a bright, bouncy, light balloon. The client, on the other hand, sees said idea a beautiful, fragrant, heavy loaf of bread. Which they can cut up, take the most tasteful slices, and give back the rest.)

Our clients at Nick always liked our ideas, and the notion of new, short cartoons done by new creative talent fit their sense of themselves like a hand-in-glove. So, when they told us they were moving ahead with animation pilots, they thought they were agreeing with us.

(More next time.)

Blog History of Oh Yeah! Cartoons. Part 1. Part 2.

We keep getting asked about how we started making original cartoons like the ones in Oh Yeah!, so I thought it might be good occasionally to post a bit of the back story here. Feel free to interrupt with any questions.

In the early 80s, after getting my start in TV as MTV’s original creative director, Alan Goodman and I had started Fred/Alan, the first company to introduce the concept of branding to television networks. Our first client, and first success, was the relaunching of Nickelodeon, where we made them the number one cable channel in six months. (Amazingly, since they’d been the lowest rated network in America.)

Chief programmer Debby Beece and business head Anne Sweeney asked me to breakfast at New York’s Paramount Hotel sometime in 1988 or 89, and said it was necessary for Nickelodeon to seriously start producing it’s own programming, and they wanted to start with animation. Since Alan and I had brought hundreds of wild, award-winning, animated network identifications to the channel, did I have any idea how they could get started? Honestly, other than random conversations I’d had with NY commercial producer Buzz Potamkin, I’d never given animated programming much thought. We were branding and promotion specialists, I reminded them, with no background in storytelling, and there was a world of difference between little 10 second dancing animals (as wonderful as they might be) and comedy. Debby and Ann insisted we were the ones to help them out, and I began improvising.

Why not copy from the best, I suggested. Why not emulate Looney Tunes?

(More next time.)