The Making of LEGO Island: Difference between revisions

=== CHAPTER TWO - On Your Mark, Get Set... ===

I was on the art staff. Most of us were Techno-Amish at the time. We just knew how to draw. A few of us had previous computer experience but that was never the major qualification for an art department staff in those days. It was more important if you were an artist. We sat glued to our monitors in the Art Cave. The Art cave was a large dark room back in the day when software companies would put artists in a kind of internment camp where management would only approach with great caution. For several years we used primitive art and animation technology that was pretty similar to Grandma’s needle point; one stitch at a time, one pixel at a time. We sat in eccentrically decorated cubicles. Strange contraptions from Archie McPhee’s novelty store, plastic plants, and childhood toys filled most of our Levittown office neighborhood. There was a starting core tribe of 6 of us. We were a perfect sociological balance according to a theory of group dynamics. A pretty “free spirit” kind of woman, a quiet funny guy, a conservative woman, An excellent artist with a somewhat shady past, and the Art Director who was most charming with a slight hint of dizziness... oh, and me. The department slowly expanded but this was the starting core group. I was the last of the core group hired and I really wasn’t too skilled at this new digital format (yet). Irreverent animations of established characters, jokes, and silly over-the neighbor’s- cubical conversations were our culture. Artists at the time were the “necessary evil” for most programmers although often placated by some that we had a very important job. Most of the programmers seemed to anxiously be waiting for art-droids to be invented so they could minimize the social contact with some of us. They simply told the artists what to do but always followed it with “but you’re the artist”. My favorite follow up instructions were “make the colors pop.” “you should decide but it should look something like this.” In the beginning of video games, programmers designed the concept, the game and would often insert “programmer art” for us to follow. They would leave the production to the artists but really, you couldn’t risk the artist to be in charge of anything important. Lord knows what they’d do. It was a cultural issue. Sarcasm was a common language. We could, of course, after loyal service rise to the position of “Art Lead.” It was a noble title in lieu of a raise. I was an art lead for a project at the time for a presumably revolutionary product called the 20^th Century Almanac. It was revolutionary for its time because it was a century of important dates that when selected would have historic videos and film. This was a great gregarious group of programmers and producer, a rarity in the biz.