By design, a lot of client and conference calls happen in Chel’s office. The trees have that magical way of taking the edge off, and letting us all think more clearly within the friendly confines.
I remember conference calls with director Dustin Lance Black (you know him as the writer behind Milk, J. Edgar, etc) during VFX and title sequence work on 2009′s Gus Van Sant-produced Virginia, all of which were calls we took in Chel’s office. It was Black’s directorial debut and, as it was based loosely around events pulled from his life, he was very exacting with the realism he wanted. To the point where they had us digitally repainting a theme park ferris wheel to match how it was painted at the time set in the film. This is attention to detail that occasionally comes along, but it’d been a while since I’d heard of a director being so gung ho – maybe not since reading reports of how David Fincher flew in giant oak trees by helicopter so that parts of Zodiak’s San Francisco & Oakland looked more true to the historical photographs taken in the 1970’s that documented the real story and police reports. So as you can imagine, with such high requirements for Virginia, there was a certain level of stress to be expected by Black and his team on the other end of the phone… but regardless of stress level, I for one would look forward to those conference calls each day. You couldn’t ignore the calming transformation as we all funneled into Chel’s office. No matter how rough the morning was going or how low someone’s mood might be – as soon as we stepped through that door, shoulders relaxed. Voices got quieter. There’s those deep breaths. You sat down, got comfortable, had a quick laugh or two before prepping for the call.
Deer hiding in the leaves
That’s an example of the effect this room can and does have every day. On everyone. Ok, out with it already — this space is special to me in that it made me a believer in the power of a well designed office. This was the one that finally showed me what all the fuss and hard work (and design) that must go into setting up a space like this is about.
I’d worked in plenty of nice rooms, sure – NYC Flame suites decked out in designer leather furniture, sprawling custom wood desks that wrapped around the operator and had giant broadcast monitors carved out. Let’s not forget the stocked mini bar in the corner, or the requisite morning muffin tray. Halfway around the world, let’s talk about Peter Jackson’s Park Road post house down in New Zealand, with it’s California styling done up in pure NZ Rimu and Manuka, and seemingly endless room upon room of Persian rugs. However, to this point in my career, I’d almost written those types of spaces off – scoffing at how we could be doing the work in a barn and it’d all end up the same (and in the case of Weta’s Compositing “barn,” that’s not far from the truth). I’d laugh at how they’d “wasted all that money” just to impress clients, money that could have given us a raise or better desks. 
Chel’s office finally cut through this noise, and I think that might be the fundamental difference – clients have nothing to do with this space. He’s not trying to impress anyone, nor is he concerned with any outside influences. This office was designed by Chel for Chel. I get the feeling that even if Bent were to blow up and become some megalo-animation company where the partners were millionaires several times over, that this office would remain exactly as it is now. This is the space that inspires him to do his best work… and it’s infectious.
Chel describes the formative concept: “When we moved into the building that is now the Bent studio, I was free to pretty much do anything I wanted, so I created a place where I felt like I could spend a lot of time; where I could somehow get lost but still be present. I like the effect that the walls seems to fall away and the line between indoors and outdoors is blurred. I also like the 1970’s vibe that the wall murals exude. But above all, my primary motivation was to create a calming space. There is a baked-in tension in the film biz, so I was trying to offset that.”
These days in the studio/post house world, there’s almost something generic about a nice space done up to “client specs.” In the same way that it seems absolutely every house on the market has granite countertops in the kitchen. Right? It’s like, yeah, that’s what’s hot at the moment, and they’re nice and all… but where’s the personality? Where’s the character?
In Chel’s office, there’s nothing BUT character and personality. It’s unique but without taking it so far that it becomes pretentious. Homey and unrefined in all the right places. And most importantly, it reflects him well. It’s just so damn Chel. And Bent! And why not go all the way with it – it’s so Oregon!
Bent beautifully reeks of Oregon pride like no other shop I’ve seen in Portland. It’s not the obvious things, like working on Grimm or Portlandia, or the locally shot and home grown commercials and long form content that they’re constantly filming around town. Yeah yeah yeah, that’s got Oregon all over it by way of osmosis, but we get that for free. No, what I’m getting at is the subtle things that surface from time to time that extrovert a proud little nod to Portland. Instead of how some companies like to sweep their zip code under the rug and make nearly no mention of it on a website or press release – I can only assume because they’re trying to come off as more LA or NYC, as if that’s some sort of a requirement or competitive edge. It’s like the freelancers who still keep their LA phone number even though they’ve lived here for 3 years or more… please!
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