Sean Pecknold

Hello

Sean Pecknold is an independent animator, music video and film director from Seattle, Washington based in Los Angeles, CA.

He uses analog filmmaking techniques to create stories about shapes, people, animals, and objects. He enjoys wandering into visually strange and magical places. It’s not just girl meets boy. It’s girl meets boy then turns into a tree. 

He is currently working on his first feature length film called The Last Forest.  

His body of work includes award-winning films and animations for Fleet Foxes, John Legend, Netflix, Dreamworks, Dirty Projectors, Google, Sony, Lyft, Headspace, The New York Times, and the BBC. His work has been presented at film and design festivals all over the world and his animated film The Shrine / An Argument won the Best Animation at the UKMVAs in London.  His first animated film White Winter Hymnal won the Special Jury Prize at SXSW. Sean is a proud recipient of a Young Gun Award from the Art Director’s Club of America.   

He runs Sing-Sing studio in Los Angeles with Adi Goodrich and has taught stop-motion classes in NYC, Seattle, Los Angeles, and CalArts. 

He recently directed and animated stop-motion for Song Exploder on Netflix as well as stop-motion for Worn Stories also on Netflix.

His most recent animated film Featherweight has been nominated for a 2022 Annie Award and was also selected as Cartoon Brew's Short Pick Of The Day, a Vimeo Staff Pick, 1.4 Awards Shortlist, and featured on It's Nice That, Booooooom, Shots, Little Black Book, Motionographer, Animation World Network, & Animation Magazine. 

In September 2021 The GRAMMY Museum in Los Angeles hosted a retrospective screening of Sean's film and video work with Fleet Foxes from the last 12 years. 

He was a contributing columnist to The Smudge, where he wrote short stories about Single Function Objects at the Single Function Junction.

Film & TV Manager: Patrick Newman / Mosaic  310-786-4997

For graphic prints visit the store.

 

Collaborators

  • Adi Goodrich
  • Antfood
  • BBC Knowledge
  • Britta Johnson
  • Clay Hickson
  • Dirty Projectors
  • Eileen Kohlhepp
  • Elvis Perkins
  • Elvis Perkins
  • Emily Franz
  • Fleet Foxes
  • Google
  • Grizzly Bear
  • Here We Go Magic
  • John Legend
  • Liana Jegers
  • Malfred Sound
  • Netflix
  • New York Times
  • Nice Try
  • Nicolas Godin
  • Robin Pecknold
  • Sean Lewis
  • Sing-Sing
  • Snask
  • Some All None
  • Sons & Co
  • Stacey Rozich
  • The Smudge
  • The Unknown
  • The Walkmen
  • VSCO

The Leash

From The Smudge, July 2021

One day the leash decided to go for a walk. Out the gate and around
the neighborhood like every other day, but this time all by herself.
She walked past the citrus trees, coffee shop, bakery and post office.

Getting used to floating without a human hand or dog attached was
something new. It was freeing, but also aimless. She had grown used to
having direction from the human and dog. The constant and opposing
yanks and pulls. It was her rhythm. So she stopped at the same
telephone polls where the dog would pee. She even straightened out and
stared at a cat in a driveway.

She said hello to the rising sun, the opening flowers, and the For
Sale signs. The other neighbors walked by, but rather than a smile and
a “good morning”, they just stared at her. But she continued to float
proudly, as if nothing was different about this morning. Today she was
ready to share herself with the world.

But a truth that had lingered deep inside for many years struck her
after passing by a 7th neighbor who said nothing. Perhaps all of the
comments she had thought were directed at her all these years had in
fact been directed at the dog. “What an adorable thing.” “How old is
she?” “What kind is she?” “That is just the cutest little thing.” “You
are so lucky to have such an adorable friend.”

No. These must not have been for her. How embarrassed she was to have
even thought they were. They were for the creature that she was
attached to 3 times a day. She sat with this for a while, her speckled
rope rippling slowly in the summer breeze.

Then, in a flash, she remembered how long she had sat on the shelves
at Petco. The empty feeling when the fluorescent lights were turned
off and she was left to hang all night with the other leashes waiting
to be given a purpose.

She realized that perhaps she could be content just playing a role in
the neighborhood walks. She didn’t need the adoration or the praise.
She could just be the thing that keeps two living things that love
each other together.

She returned back home, opened the gate, and rolled herself back onto
the cold metal railing and waited for the sound of the opening door.

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