Where Am I Headed?

I'm not altogether sure that I will ever reach a point at which I am fully prepared to face the choices lying ahead of me. I would love for a career constrained by nothing other than the very accommodating bounds of a polymathic lifestyle, just as the Renaissance movement originally encouraged. I don't want to do only a single thing with my life, and I hate how our society's economic mechanism encourages against chasing multiple dreams.

The sentiment that originally led me to follow a higher education in game art was very simple: I like traditional art a lot; I like digital and interactive forms of art a lot; I like games a bit too. The reason I don't hold games in as high a regard as art is because of the consumerist stain that runs deep into their fundamental essence. Although this is also applicable to some art, there is no escaping the fact that games are built from the ground up with the foremost intention being for them to generate as much profit as possible. Just as it is with most things within capatalist society, games are products, and the priorities of a product are absorbed in the making of money.

I sound like a naïve, idealistic twat ― I realise that. I'll try to justify my feelings a little further in the following paragraphs.

It is not the advertisements placed within games that upsets me; it is not the product placement that has game assets branded with various corporate logos that upsets me; it is not even the downloadable content (DLC) that users purchase only to have something already sitting on their game disc magically unlocked that upsets me.

These two games are separated
by 13 years but look
practically the same!

What upsets me about games is simply the fact that artistic freedom is heavily restricted by decisions made by publishers. The profit-monkeys who fund development studios care not for artistic expression; only money. This, and the fact that exploring familiar territory is generally safer, cultivates in publishers funding projects that follow a similar tangent to games that have in the past proven successful. What this then leads to is a game genre remaining stagnant for years upon years while a plethora of near-identical games erupt off store shelves and into the laps of thousands of zombie consumers every Christmas. I am so utterly sick of hearing about FPS's set around the idea of blowing the head off of every German or Middle-Easterner you see. I would love to be part of a game project set in a less acknowledged part of the world (such as Tibet or Burma) where interaction with other humans is far more complex than that of mere violence.

One might argue that what I have said is true of all creative industries but I can prove that incorrect with the music industry used as an example. Sure, within the mainstream music industry there are plenty of big names to which what I have said does apply, but there are also many smaller music groups residing within underground and alternative music culture who constantly redefine musical genres with powerful, refreshing music that prioritises creativity over revenue. A socio-political industrial music group going by the name, Opir, forms a good example of this. The group's very niche music addresses some of their biggest concerns regarding American politics in an incredibly intricate and unique soundscape of harsh beats, electronic melodies and distorted vocal samples.

It could at this point be argued that non-mainstream music groups are comparable to indie game developers, but again, this is incorrect. I have worked for a small games developer before and the firm's desperate yearning to surpass break-even point each month was incredibly apparent. Game studios require a larger initial investment than bands as do they generate more overheads each month thereafter. With all these assets and investments put into their businesses, indie developers end up just as afraid as larger developers to play around with risky projects.

Buddhist monastery, nearby Mount Popa, Burma



Potala Palace, Lhasa, Tibet

Would beautifal, culturally-rich places like these not make for an interesting game setting?

I would love to be the sort of environmental artist who creates really unique, gripping cityscapes and landscapes that draw inspiration from a wide range of lesser-known cultures and mythologies. Doing something like that would be amazing and it is the spark of hope that such a career option is possible that is keeping me on my feet at the moment.

Creativity is what I live for, and perhaps this is why as an artist I feel so much anguish. Nothing that I have ever produced has made me feel anything close to fulfilled or satisfied; all I can ever think about is how much better I could have done. I do not enjoy being an artist but I simply cannot imagine myself not being one. The idea of not dabbling in the creative fields is far worse than the emotional toll that being an artist has on me. Even when I'm taking a break from work, my displacement activities are almost always in some way or another creative; such as modifying a pair of boots, or taking a day out to do some photography.

What-ever job I end up in, it will most likely entail a fusion of visual creativity, technology and culture — those are my main three interests.

Queens Project Post-Mortem

I have learnt a lot in the past semester. In particular, I have realised just how much my teamwork skills require further refining. Part of my problem is that I find it difficult to contribute within small areas of a project rather than having full-reign over everything. This ineptitude isn't rooted in a lust for power or anything comparable to that; rather, it is brought about by the simple fact that when I feel passionate about something I want to protect it. This is not a good thing at all and I really need to work on it for future team based endeavours.


This semester has passed-by faster than any semester prior. This, most likely, is due to how hard everyone has been working to juggle this project amongst other course related commitments. It pushed my endurance dial into the red zone but luckily I am now versed enough in dealing with demanding projects to not succumb to severe stress or depression. In fact, if anything, I am now far better at picking-up on the early signs of these feelings and counter-acting them accordingly. For me, meditation and contemplative exercise can be a real godsend at times.

So, on with the story.

 

A screen-shot of our level

Our group project began with the team trying to devise a name. With the project being orientated around that of the survival horror genre, we wanted a name that accurately reflected our artistic intentions. So there we were, shooting possible names at one anouther: 'Team Decaying Apple?;' no; 'Team Morbid Ant Hill?'; no; 'Team Electrically-Conductive Fermented Soup Bowl?;' hell no!; and then, finally, 'Team Drowning Fish,' to which the general consensus was 'uh, yeah, okay then.'

By the point of 'Team Drowning Fish' finally gaining popular vote, the question of who would lead the team had bounced around the room a fair few times but no conclusion had yet been reached. I couldn't believe my luck when finally a verdict seemed to be drawing closer with everyone seemingly swayed toward the idea of running a democratic group with no elected leader; that was precisely what I had wanted! Team Drowning Fish, the leaderless group — that's who we were!

The project task, in short, was to create a survival horror game level bearing an aesthetic that in some way resembled the Queens Building on campus. The team went about a few walk-abouts in the said building and the high extent of everyone's creative capacity was immediately evident. The sheer quantity of ideas cascading about in our discussions combined with the leaderless dynamic of our team, made it such that most of the first month was spent trying to arrive at a final design concept. Had we no time-limit, the leaderless dynamic would have worked perfectly as it allowed for everyone to feel engaged, but of-course, sadly, idealism is fairly often thwarted by the cold darkness of reality when put to the test.

We remained leaderless throughout the project, but over time, different team members seemed to organically form their own areas of specialism in which they had higher authority. It seemed to work well.

Eventually our idea was cultivated into something that felt interesting and unique to all of us. We decided that creating a level in which the Queens Building is occupied by an evil cult to be an exciting and not overly cliché idea. As a cult could pretty much constitute as anything, this idea gave us a lot of leeway in what territory there was available for us to explore.

The Cult of Cthulhu gave us a lot of inspiration, particularly within the satire department. During a YouTube video in which the cult's 'high priest' explains the benefits of joining them, he decides half-way through that it's a good idea for him to take-off his shirt and start flexing his muscles!

One of the ideas that we all very much liked was that of having a cultist's lair right at the end of the level that would be candle-lit to contrast the other forms of lighting to be shooting about the level.

In fact, contrast became a very important part of our art style. We identified lighting to be one of the most prominent ingredients to the Queens Building aesthetic, and decided early on to create an environment of contrasting lighting types that would effectively lead the player around the level.

 Towards the project's midway point, a clear sense of segregation had become evident amongst team-members. It seemed that in crossing the bridge between 'talking about ideas' and 'executing ideas,' a couple of team-members had decided to stay behind. This grew yet more and more apparent in the weeks to come.
 

A screen-shot of our level



Perhaps, if I were to identify a stage of the project in which I learnt the most, it would be around-about this period.

I certainly could have dealt with the matter of a split team far better. I was working myself incredibly hard and was appalled that such a case was only mutually applicable to a few other team-members. I could have dealt with the situation far better by not letting my emotions affect my decisions and having focused on what would help the team, rather than what would help alleviate my feelings of injustice.

Towards the end of the project, the team became more and yet more aware of the regularity at which the clock was ticking. We decided which areas of the project to prioritise and where it was necessary to make sacrifices. In retrospect, while at the time every small detail that we had to drop felt like a punch in the stomach, the overall level hasn't suffered much at all from this minor lack of polish.

The final product really isn't that bad at all. I had some very talented artists in my team and the best of their work really stands out in the level. I never know how to feel about my work but as the team seemed to like it, I suppose my contributions must have had some worth.