KultureFlash ::: Artworker of the Week ::: Catherine Yass

ARTWORKER OF THE WEEK #14

Future of Gaming, 2001-02
Still from a DVD -- duration: 11 minutes 35 seconds

Additional stills from Future of Gaming
Additional stills from Hayling
Additional CGIs/blueprints from Pull/Pulk & Like Spinning Plates
Additional blueprints from a work in progress

Johnny Harstaff's films have been exhibited extensively internationally and won many awards -- including Creative Review's "Creative Future" 2001, a D&AD silver nomination and a place in the New Director’s Showcase at the Cannes Film Festival. Thse led him to Black Dog and Ridley Scott Associates, and he has since worked with: the BBC, FC Kahuna, Radiohead, and Super Furry Animals, and Sony. He is now signed to Little Minx in the US and is busy establishing his own creative units both in Europe and Japan. It's no surprise then that the animation-literate Japanese are such huge fans of his.

Below is a long informal, chat that Hardstaff had with with KF (Amanda Boyle) about his work, over lunch.

Johnny Hardstaff is in every sense of the word, a maverick. I was first introduced to his work at the 2001 onedotzero Digital Film Festival. In a climate then awash with mostly male digital animators/film makers obsessed with video graphics and machines/vehicles in general (I remember begging at that time not to see another skilfully drawn aeroplane circumnavigate the screen) Hardstaff's drawings made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. His films took these subjects and pushed them further. The level of draftmanship was extraordinary and their cool beauty pivoted on both an affection and disdain for the world. Part I of the piece I saw, History of Gaming, was classified as a special Playstation2 commission but was developed well before the Sony label was attached. Part II -- Future of Gaming was created from scratch for Playstation2 -- a still of which is seen on our very own KultureFlash this week. A satirical look at the abusive mass media marketing, almost military strategy, of computer games companies... this was possibly not what the guys at Playstation2 expected... and although shown at festivals, it was never aired. Vintage Hardstaff... a man who will not play the game... or if he does, he'll certainly keep you on your toes. Although often very beautiful there is frequently a feeling in his work that something is festering under the veneer. It shocks and amazes. Constantly in awe of his eye for aesthetics and his ear for a good soundtrack, I also guiltily revel in his naughty sense of humour.

Amanda Boyle: How would you describe what you do?

Johnny Hardstaff: How would you describe what I do?

AB: (long pause) Well I think you're trying to create something different... I think your overall concern is with the individual project... (another long pause)... I think there is definitely some kind of political element to your work... you're certainly looking at society... the future... how things might be... and you're interested in making striking visuals. I'm not sure, I think you're trying to do loads of different things.

JH: (Laughs...)

AB: I don’t know... come on...

JH: I love visually arresting aesthetics that is something that does preoccupy me but my work doesn't have political content, it doesn't have a political agenda. I find it (all) absurd, so it can't. However it's true that the media to me does feels like some kind of absurd Greek orgy at the moment. So I think it's important that to at least try and bring work through that does shake it a little bit or that does actually make people think about things. Even in the basis of like a pop promo if you can impress upon hundreds of thousands of young minds, a type of question... then I think that's a healthy thing.

AB: And that's important...

JH: It's critical. Everything is so bland and burger scented. And the media in general... It does concern me. And social injustice, that concerns me deeply. We’re living under virtual occupation at the moment. Virtual cultural and political occupation. That bothers me and should be addressed.

AB: Are you talking about the dumbing down of the mainstream...

JH: It's hard to differentiate what the mainstream is. People are so held by trends. Trends are the main stream.

AB: But your work is quite cool though as well... why do you think it's conceived like that?

JH: I don’t think it is cool. I'm in my early thirties... I wouldn't like to say I think know what's cool. And more to the point I shouldn't. That's the trouble, there's an assumption in the media that people do and that one should. Actually I think it's becoming more and more political orientated. That's why commercially I'm awkward and I'm probably not a viable prospect... which I love!

(Then follows a five minute discussion about George Orwell's statement that even work which isn't political is a political statement and the London art world...)

JH: ... I think it's important to look at things that touch my life and my daughters life... I don't know that all sounds a bit worthy...

AB: I think that sounds important.

JH: Hmmm... No I think that spoilt it.

(Much laughter)

AB: So what are you trying to say politically?

JH: We've talked about this before.

AB: I know, I know.

JH: I don't have a political standpoint. I don't really agree with labelling. I don't see myself as left wing or right wing. I'm mortified by the current political situation in this country. Oh I don't know... I like making pretty things though.

AB: OK, so who would you say your heroes are?

JH: I think people like Hans Bellmer, are interesting. There are filmmakers who I like... But actually I think it's important not to have heroes. I'd like to try and get back to basics. Why make them heroes just because they've made their mark... that was then.

AB: Well there is often a collage element to film... using other films as references... having said that sometimes someone comes along and they're work is very arresting, they are different... and your work is like that, it's definitely very striking.

JH: Mate, thank you (Laughing). Where are we going on our next date?... and the rent needs paying? ...shall I get the milk in?

PART II

AB: (Laughing) Fair enough. You now work in different mediums (Hardstaff is currently working on a gallery project, print work, a screenplay and motion image work for a digital film festival) why is that and is there one you prefer?

JH: All it's really about is producing strong, striking, leading images. There are just so many ways to achieve that.

AB: So do you like being controversial?

JH: I don't think I have been. Controversy is not an end in itself. A controversial statement is naturally puerile if done for that reason alone, but what is interesting to me are the collective buttons that you can press in others. I don't subscribe to society's collective moral values, primarily because the Western world seems to steadily find certain things either acceptable or unacceptable in a whimsical collective consensus. A curious phenomena, with the media dictating pet issues and directing topical outrage. It's almost like Europe doesn't actually know what it thinks any longer. Outrage is fashion based, trend based. Emotional responses are almost programmed, adopted by the herd from fear of individuality. Alan Moore wrote that, this is his example, bereaved mothers nowt articulate their grief in the language of Springer or Montel or whoever it is now. That television has taken away instinctive responses, primal reactions, and that now people are told how to feel, how to react, how to "deal with it". "Closure". "Move on". "I feel your pain". That genuine sentiment and emotion has been subjugated by a bland living room oracle that says nothing, twenty four hours a day. So, if you challenge, perhaps making someone feel uncomfortable in the process, or ugly about themselves, presenting them with a new thought that they haven't been equipped to process, then this is no bad thing. Anything that reminds this "superior" species of their fundamental desires, to fuck, to eat, to kill, opens a valid debate. But for any element of human nature to be controversial is an oxymoron. I'm not interested in controversy, just in... in...

AB: (suggests) Being different...?

JH: Not exactly, more in, actually saying something genuine. Being reactionary is no bad thing, if only to feel a fresh wind blowing. I think what I'm interested in, what I would like to do, is touch people but in an awkward way, to highlight guilty participation, to outline passive responsibility. That's what the outline of the gallery project is about. A project that appropriates a mass media language system, that adopts a very seductive aesthetic, that utilises the media's glossy language of polish and digital awe, yeah, digital awe, but that, as a viewer, for you to have watched it, to have mentally demanded the next frame, to have expected the next frame like it is your right or privilege, and the next, to have willed it along, a mental carousel of guilt and responsibility, maybe that breeds accountability. The Western world immunises itself on a diet of weed, pills and cheap escapism, occupies itself with trivia, free from any responsibility for the dangers and reality that much of the rest of the world faces, and yet still has the base instinct to seek its own controlled thrills by being a little risque, trying a little S&M, driving fast, "extreme" sports, fetishising anything and everything, softly spanking it's own arse. We all do it, well, maybe not all of the above exactly... it's not that I want to be different, just...

AB: OK, ok... next question... How did you get here Mr. Hardstaff?

JH: Erm, haven't actually got anywhere exactly. Did all the early stages like you're supposed to, St. Martins, the cliche'd route, then kind of walked away from it all for a good few years. I did everything I could to avoid "art" generally. Worked as a mortuary cleaner. Delivered meat in Chinatown. Huge cases of frozen duck in winter, sliding around in basement walk-thru grease traps and fighting with the other delivery teams, and in all honesty, I really enjoyed it. Then on the quiet I started to make a little graphic film. That first film got me looked after by Black Dog Films and RSA, and now I have one end of an exceptionally untidy studio away from Soho, so I'm really only just starting. A little less naive and a lot more focused. I still have the pork belly's tattooed on either shoulder blade though.

AB: Moving on... (laughing)... music seems very important to what you do... let's talk about that. Would you like to talk about that more?

JH: If you want, but it's more about sound than music precisely. I'm interested in the human voice, but more likely spoken. I am interested in resonance. In emotion from signals, from tones and pulses, in both composition and the seductive qualities of individual notes. My girlfriend Wai-Ling is a cellist and I find the resonance, and the range of sounds that she can make very inspiring.

AB: Classical?

JH: Yes. I love the experience of orchestral performance. The Berlin Philharmonic, their perfection and attention to detail is currently complete. The mass synchronisation of centuries of tradition and perfected archaic technology with this wonderfully Germanic confidence. If I was to ever make another promo, which is very unlikely, it would have to be for a classical recording of some nature. Currently I find the very notion of groups of invariably male pop / rock musicians clutching guitars, too reminiscent of wandering minstrels, as dated now as it possibly was in mediaeval times. They may as well turn up at your door with a mandolin and tell you yet another fucking story of lost love or vaudeville melancholy, like a cringe-worthy restaurant musician. But then occasionally you're surprised. Even Britney Spears can put out a good record. However, a composer scores his emotions once, and then doesn't have to ceaselessly perform it with that same look of sadness or anger or resignation, each and every time unlike popular "artists", no matter his state of mind that day. Commercial music, or pop, is an absurdity. As camp and clumsy as Pro-Wrestling. Whereas the intricacy, the beauty and prowess, the power of a large orchestra in amplifying once written, and now indelible emotions. That is astounding. Sampling is art. Analogue and digital experimentation, yes. The marriage of film and sound is what excites me. What drives me now. What makes me want to work harder. Gyorgy Ligeti's Horn Concerto, his Requiem. That is progressive music. Genius choral music. Radiohead's "Spinning Plates", wonderful. Beethoven's Ninth, predictably theatrical pop, but inarguably sublime. Music of precision. Music which is sophisticated in it's technology -- albeit wooden boxes with strings and acoustics. I think maybe it appeals to that side of you (as a filmmaker), that need to control everything and for everything to be more... more refined, fuller, stronger, warmer. An orchestra can play you and seduce you... take you through anothers internal moment so perfectly, an abstracted emotional performance by proxy, with integrity, as film should. To me, the strongest film work is also without cheap theatrics, and actually says something. Like Come and See. A friend showed it to me recently. The most incredible film.

(Then followed fifteen minutes discussing the fact that not only the projects themselves but also Hardstaff's way of working is different for each commission he takes on... and then a long debate about Hardstaff's interest in multi-cultural references and his love/hate relationship with Britain... and his fascination with ceramics.)

AB: So is there a unifying factor in your work?

JH: I have no idea. What would you say it is? I'm interested in transformative processes, revealing the core, and the subterfuge adopted in disguising it. I guess I'm interested in some new form of futurism. That if you can imagine it, it exists. I'm quietly obsessed by heritage and tradition and history. I'm interested in so much that is contradictory, but which fills my sketch books and drawings and head and slowly fucks itself into some form of vulnerable, fragile runt of a hybrid. Hyper-sensitive assemblies of past flesh that we might actually feel something of ourselves in. I don’t know... a digital menagerie, a deep collective memory pool.

Amanda Boyle is part of the producing team responsible for the Oscar nominated Billy Elliot and the critically acclaimed horror flim -- My Little Eye. Co-running a production company with producer Jon Finn, she is currently developing a slate of films in conjunction with Working Title Films, Stephen Daldry Pictures, The Film Council and director Marc Evans. Amanda will direct her first film -- Hotel Infinity this autumn. Part C.G.I., part live action this short is a collaboration with the visual effects company, The Mill. Amanda is also a regular contributor to KultureFlash.

Image © the artist