Today, the name “Disney” brings to mind a corporate giant whose obsession with copyright, brand control and merchandising are, shall we say, legendary. But once upon a time, the name Disney referred only to a person; a man whose entrepreneurial passion founded a company and transformed storytelling in America.
Walt Disney was a controversial figure, especially in retrospect. He was an ardent witness for the House Unamerican Activities Committee, and some of his cartoon depictions of minorities have been widely criticized as the years have gone on. His company also had significant labor-management issues that all but shut it down from 1941-1951, and criticism over labor practices there lingered for years. But for all that, Disney is also a fascinating study as a creative entrepreneur.
A new Disney Museum opened up yesterday on the Presidio property in San Francisco that chronicles Disney’s work. And while all of Disney’s creations spark a trip down memory lane, the most interesting aspects of the collection (at least from my perspective) are the stories about his efforts in the early, lesser-known, years of his career.
Disney was a cartoonist. But what set him apart from other cartoonists was … well, three things. First was his inherent love and gift for story. Not just drawing, or a quick joke, but story. One of his early projects was a film series, started in 1924, called “Alice’s Wonderland,” in which a live-action young girl falls asleep and enters an animated world. That creative genius, and his understanding that people want to get wrapped up in a story—even when they go to an amusement park—was part of what set him apart.
But like many entrepreneurs, Disney also joined forces with good partners. He met another illustrator at his first commercial art studio job in Kansas City named Ub Iwerks, whose technical talent and curiosity matched Disney’s storytelling passion. The combination sparked Disney’s forays into new technologies … from animated film, in the 1920s, to animated sound features, starting with Steamboat Willie in 1928. As a New York Times review of the new Disney museum noted yesterday:
We take it for granted now, but at the time the work meant selecting an expensive technology, developing a technique for coordinating music and image, and convincing distributors the cost was worth it. Nothing about it was easy: one wall contains an array of 348 enlargements of drawings from that cartoon; they constitute less than a minute of action.
Disney also had the support of his brother Roy, who added both funding and good business skills to the company’s mix.
But what stands out most from those early years is Disney’s relentless drive to keep going, no matter how many times he failed or took hits along the way. And the hits were numerous. The first animation studio that Disney and Iwerks founded in 1922 went bankrupt by 1924. The pair moved to Hollywood to be closer to the big studios, and persuaded Roy to invest in a second company. One of Ub and Walt’s big successes in that second venture was an animated cartoon character named “Oswald the Lucky Rabbit.” Soon after that success, however, Disney lost the rights Oswald in a nasty court battle with a distributor.
Just imagine being an entrepreneur, getting a big break with a creative project, and then, just when things were looking up, having that property stolen, and losing the case in court. Some people would have walked away in discouragement or disgust. But Disney just turned around and created a new character … a scrappy survivor originally named Mortimer Mouse, but who would become one of the most famous cartoon characters in history with the slightly revised moniker of Mickey.
Another interesting fact that comes out in the museum’s materials is how often Disney was strapped for money, despite his success. Not because he was a spendthrift; quite the opposite. Disney reportedly lived frugally, but he kept pouring his wealth back into the company to push technology just a little further; to create a little more far-reaching and wonderful products; to reach into new mediums and improve his art just a little bit more.
Yes, Disney (or perhaps Roy) made an art form out of merchandising. But if Disney became “Disney”—it’s because the entrepreneur was as scrappy and determined as his alter ego Mickey. He pursued his art with passion and never stopped caring about making his product better. He found powerful partners who resonated with his vision and complemented his talents. He took technical and business risks, over and over and over again. And he kept going, even when the wind and tide and currents were against him. He was creative, and he was relentless … qualities that, almost 90 years later, are still two of the most important prerequisites for a successful entrepreneur.
