Published: April 9, 2025 | Last Updated: April 11, 2025
CLAYMATION DEFINITION & MEANING
Claymation is a form of stop-motion animation in which everything—characters, props, and sets—is sculpted out of clay or a similar flexible material. Animators move the clay figures slightly between photos and then play those frames in sequence to simulate movement.
How claymation works
Every part of a claymation set is real. You build characters around a wire skeleton called an armature and sculpt every detail by hand using plasticine clay. To animate, you move the figure slightly, snap a photo, and repeat 24 times for just one second of smooth motion.
It’s slow. It’s meticulous. And that’s kind of the point. The final product has a warmth you can’t fake—textures, tool marks, and even the occasional fingerprint make it feel alive in a way polished CGI doesn’t.
Lighting and camera placement need to stay locked in place. If anything shifts by mistake—like a light tilts or someone nudges the set—it breaks the illusion and ruins the shot. Professional animators often use software to preview movement frame by frame and clean up minor errors, but the core of the work is still done by hand.
What makes claymation different from other stop-motion?
Claymation is stop-motion, but not all stop-motion is claymation.
Puppet animation uses rigid silicone or fabric characters with replacement faces and pre-built limbs:
Claymation characters, on the other hand, can be reshaped directly. Want a smile to turn into a grimace? You push the clay around:
This flexibility means claymation can feel more expressive and surreal. It’s perfect for slapstick comedy or stylized fantasy. And unlike puppet animation, clay characters physically transform in ways that feel natural to the medium—melt, stretch, squash, smudge. The handmade textures and imperfections become part of the aesthetic.
A brief history of claymation
Clay animation’s roots go back to the early 1900s. The earliest known example is The Sculptor’s Nightmare (1908), which used clay to bring a bust to life:
It wasn’t until the 1950s, though, that claymation hit mainstream TV thanks to Gumby, created by Art Clokey. Gumby’s stretchy, expressive form showed how flexible clay could be for character-driven stories:
Claymation matures: the 1970s and early 1980s
In the 1970s, animator Will Vinton helped push claymation into pop culture with commercials and music videos. He even trademarked the word “Claymation.” His studio produced shorts like Closed Mondays and the iconic California Raisins ads:
At the same time, Aardman Animations launched Morph in the UK and later developed Wallace & Gromit (first as a series of short films, but later as feature films).
A few years later, in Switzerland, Pingu was co-created by Otmar Gutmann and Erika Brueggemann.
It follows an anthropomorphic emperor penguin named Pingu and his family living at the South Pole, where they deal with everyday stuff like chores, friendships, and the occasional fish-related chaos.
Noot Noot!
– Pingu (in Penguinese).
Pingu is a good study of how various types of clay produce different results. In the early Pingu films, you can easily see finger grease, smudges, and the merging of the various clay colors:
In the revival from the 2000s, the clay is much firmer and free of all these “errors” (but it also lost some of the charm, in my opinion):
Claymation in the 1990s and 2000s: from TV to the silver screen
The real turning point came in 2000 when Aardman released Chicken Run, the first feature-length claymation film. It’s essentially “The Great Escape,” but with chickens. It proved that clay animation could hold its own at the box office and paved the way for more ambitious projects.
Wallace & Gromit (1989–2005)
Nick Park’s clay duo became claymation legends. From A Grand Day Out to The Curse of the Were-Rabbit, the franchise showed how expressive and funny clay characters could be.
Wallace’s exaggerated facial features and Gromit’s silent reactions—done with nothing but brow raises—are examples of how well claymation handles personality.
Why claymation still matters
In a sea of digital animation, claymation stands out. It’s slower, messier, and harder—but that’s also why it’s so interesting. There’s a tactility to it. You can see the physical materials. The world on screen has actual weight. That translates into something we instinctively feel as authentic, even when it’s a talking penguin or a panicking clay chicken.
Also, it’s not just about nostalgia. Claymation is incredibly flexible artistically. The fact that clay can be reshaped on the fly opens up creative possibilities that rigid puppets and digital models can’t match.
Studios like Aardman and LAIKA still make claymation films that push the form forward. They’ve started blending clay with digital tools—like 3D-printed replacement faces—but the heart of the technique is still frame-by-frame sculpture. It’s still handmade.
Summing up
Let’s be real—claymation is not for the impatient. It takes hours to animate just a few seconds. Clay deforms over time. It can melt under hot lights. Colors smudge. Fingerprints show up. And if you bump your set even slightly, you might have to redo an entire scene.
Animators often work with multiple backup models and keep wipes handy to clean clay between shots. They use reference photos and markers to ensure characters stay consistent across frames. And yes, they sometimes chill clay puppets in the fridge to prevent sagging during long shoots.
But for many animators, that’s the appeal. Claymation is craft-heavy. It rewards patience and creative problem-solving. And when done right, it produces intimate and unique animation.
So, if you’re into animation that wears its hand-made-ness on its sleeve, claymation is worth exploring. It’s storytelling molded one frame at a time, and that makes every second feel earned.
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