I've been talking with (well, if truth be told, consuming vast quantities of tea and cakes with) Johnny Hardstaff on a fairly regular basis over the past three years. It's an enjoyable process to sit back, teacup in hand, and let the Hardstaff school of discourse wash over you. Encompassing anything from the charm of British woodland wildlife to the evils of convent school education, his patter has a tendency to meander from the sensible to the surreal and downright silly. I like to think it's a mutually enjoyable experience; certainly for me, hearing what the Midlands-born Hardstaff (the fabulous surname, by the way, is his mothers -- he likes it because he thinks it's got "really nice connotations") has to say can be a hugely entertaining thing.

I first met him when his work featured in Creative Futures; an event organised by Creative Review. Creative Futures is all about showcasing spiralling young talents in communication arts. In Hardstaff's case the selection couldn't have been more spot on. The decision to include his work in the exhibition was based solely on his brilliant short film The History of Gaming, a self-initiated project which was eventually appropriated by Sony PlayStation. "I wanted to take PlayStation away from the predictable frame that gaming has, and put it into a cultural framework" he explained at the time.

Prior to his career in film, Hardstaff studied graphic design at St Martin's "you could do virtually anything; they were almost disappointed if you didn't. That makes it sound like the course was all over the place, but it was actually brilliant," he enthuses. Graduating, he worked freelance for fashion clients such as Paul Smith and Katherine Hamnett, but found the prospect of working solely in graphic design an unattractive one: "I didn't like the competition" he supplies shortly. Instead, he chose a gorier path: delivering meat in Chinatown and, for a while, working in a mortuary (the two, by the way, weren’t connected).

"But I'd been keeping sketchbooks, and doing all these drawings..." he explains. At the time almost entirely out of the loop (he wasn't actually aware that things like animation festivals existed) he wasn't quite sure what he should do with these drawings. They say crime doesn't pay, but for Hardstaff, a stolen laptop, passed onto him by a friend made the path clear. This crude, ill-begotten piece of hardware offered him the opportunity to begin exploring the real potential in his sketches: bringing his drawings to life via quite rudimentary, but nonetheless captivating snippets of animation. "So I made History of Gaming on this stolen laptop" he explains. "I didn’t know any software -- I did it all in Photoshop. I just put it down in frames and glued it together."

The History of Gaming opened several doors for Hardstaff. The film, which was used as a prelude to PlayStation games features an intricately animated timeline of gaming hardware, set to the soaring vocals of Minnie Ripperton. It led directly to his signing at production company RSA/Black Dog. "At the time I didn't even know what a production company was" he confesses. Ensconced in their Soho offices, he proceeded to develop a varied range of work, including the History of Gaming sequel Future of Gaming for PS2, a much darker feast of corporate logos, military vehicles, papal imagery and human body parts, that, as a whole, offers a grim perspective on the marketing strategies of companies such as Sony. "I think it's a fair summary of what they've been trying to say for years, which is essentially 'this child's toy is a very dangerous desirable commodity, that's it's empowering and that we want people to buy it.' It isn't. It doesn't encourage people to go and creatively make things for themselves. Instead it encourages them to sit in front of a television for awfully long periods of time" he offers bluntly.

Never one to shy from a bit of controversy his next project was the promo for composite Radiohead tracks Pull/Pulk & Like Spinning Plates. It features a giant machine which slowly assembles on the screen, gradually revealing a centrifuge amid the moving parts which contains conjoined twins, their bodies in the process of being separated. "It's about children, fragility and vulnerability" says Hardstaff of the promo, but there are a few other abiding concerns that are sneaked in there too: parts of the machine, for example, appear to be made of porcelain and bear the cracked hallmarks of antique ceramics. "I was at Chatsworth the other week, it's gorgeous, you can feel centuries of privilege there," adds Hardstaff by way of explanation. "Ceramics, things like that, are representative of this love and a hatred of old England -- life peerages -- all these things that are completely wrong, but at the same time so charming.

The aforementioned military and papal images in Future of Gaming offer more clues as to what interests or motivates Hardstaff. "Global corporations aren't my bag -- but there's a lot about fascism and heritage and nationalism in there" he concedes. As to why these subjects interest him he has this to offer: "Because we're all representative of it in some way, and perhaps, in a very banal way, because I have problems with authority. I don't like the notion of leading a manipulated life. I don't like the notion of aesthetically being told what to do. I don't think it's good to exist in a system -- I don't even approve of formalised education." It is perhaps for such reasons that Hardstaff recently decided to move out of RSA's offices and set up his own studio in London's east end (although he is still represented by them). Feeling he'd lost his way somewhat, worked on a couple of projects he didn't really care for, was disheartening for Hardstaff who doesn't really like what he calls "playing the game". "It's so fucking nice to have something to kick against, and I don’t see the point if there isn't. It's good to be reactionary at times and it generates interesting work," he offers. For the time being, Hardstaff is immersed in a few self-initiated projects: "one of them is basically an animated live action installation piece, which I think would be wonderful. I've been talking to a gallery in New York about it, and they are very interested in doing something. I haven't formalised anything... I don't know, this is something that I may never make" he explains. Another potential project which links this installation and may encompass a DVD and book. He is also in the process of developing a title series for digital festival resfest.

A move to a new studio, plus the space to develop his own projects seems to have given Hardstaff a new lease of life. He's happier and therefore more driven than I've ever seen him before. Interview and post-interview food/chat in the park dispensed with Hardstaff is ready to head back to his studio: I express regret on his behalf that he's going to lose out on a pleasantly lazy Saturday afternoon, but, he confides, secretly he rather enjoys it.

Paula Carson
July 2003

Paula Carson is deputy editor of international communication arts magazine Creative Review. She collaborated with Lewis Blackwell on the book and website Whereishere, and has also written for the D&AD, BTAA and Creative Circle. For her sins, in her spare time, she organises and curates the exhibition Creative Futures, a showcase of young talent in communication arts. She has also acted as judge for the Creative Circle Awards, Epica Awards and Creative Review's showcase of the best in creativity, The Annual.