On this episode, I have a really fun conversation with my friend Hato, an artist I have grown really close with over the last year or so through digital art spaces. For anybody that is curious what not to do in web3 spaces as a project, this episode is for you. If anybody is into artist stories about how they started out, and how they found their way into digital mediums, this episode is for you. If anybody is into casual but brutally honest talk about how insane it is to be an artist in this digital age, well, this episode is for you.
Heads up: You may want to skip the first 8 minutes or so of the podcast, where I essentially go on a very personal and rude rant about how absolutely fucked up it is that some folks who call themselves “curators” in the space are going about telling artists what to do, and how to do it.
I kinda cut loose a bit, because I’m fed up with how all of these inexperienced and unqualified asshats are becoming perceived authorities in the space, especially in how it pertains to how artists should conduct themselves. There are plenty of artists that are greatly successful, that do not compromise their integrity, so it’s a false equivalence to say that we are “just jealous of the success of others.” This is a nonsense argument.
We’re artists, not commodities. If you are feeling triggered by my rant, and you think it may be about you, then it probably is. We should all be in the business of checking whether we are being true to our selves, and our own moral values before we begin accepting what some strangers have to say about how to be “successful artists.” Follower counts may be reflective of financial success, but not all artists define success by monetary gain. You can have all the money in the world and still be a piece of shit.
Alright, back to the podcast with Hato!
Hato’s story begins in a very relatable way for most artists; by drawing stuff on anything that’s available. I adore the mental image of her copying art from books at a young age, onto lined notebooks. This is the way. Anybody that grew up before the internet became an easily accessible thing can relate to this I think. And those that did grow up with internet, can probably appreciate the feeling of not being glued to a device at all times.
Being a Polish-Lao immigrant moving to Ireland, Hato went through some things that are familiar to me: Not speaking the language fluently, and having to adjust to a new social structure. This, coupled with her need to draw early on, paints a picture of a person that just inherently feels the need to create, both because it calls to her, but also because it’s a great escape.
As always, I ask if there is an academic background shoring up the creative work, and I was pleasantly surprised to find out that she went to school for motion design. It’s crazy to see how creative folks go after one thing, and find themselves doing another, and even end up circling back to what they wanted prior. It’s good to be fluid and explore, I think.
Speaking of origin stories, I got the origin story of her name (which means bird in Japanese). After a little discussion about how they adopted a bird into their lives with her partner Nev, we arrive at the story of her pixelated Pigeons (Collection: “If Pigeons Had Hands” on OBJKT) - which were, incidentally, my first purchase of her art. The story is essentially about how she has always thought that pigeons look like they should have hands. 🤣
This opens the lid on a can of art worms. Specifically, the concept of being restricted by a medium - which is a wild thing. One would think this kind of restriction comes with a negative connotation, but it was quite the opposite for her. By working win pixel art, the confines and limitations that came with it were refreshing for her, because the boundaries prevented her from spiraling out. Like many artists, she gets lost in the sauce of creation, and her meticulousness takes the wheel. A simple concept can turn into an insanely detailed art commitment. I always say, it’s good set boundaries with one’s self, and this is a literal example of the art doing that automatically.
Unlike most artists that joined the NFT world, Hato was one of the folks that took paying work with multi-K collectible projects, as a community manager, moderator, and other roles. I think her perspective is important, because she has hands on experience being a part of larger projects, in addition to selling her own 1/1 art in the space. It makes her capable of accurately assessing the different types of behavior that are present in the space.
On that note, I was really stoked to ask her about her experience working for the Xhamster (yes, that Xhamster) NFT/PFP project. What she details is a descent into the madness of what happens when a project with some funding and clout shows up in the crypto space, and proceeds to royally fuck the entire thing up. Tone deaf, clueless, and stumbling blindly into a very niche culture, Xhamster proceeded to do absolutely everything a project should not be doing if they want to build a healthy community, let alone sell out their product.
While the discussion is really a good exploration of what this porn brand didn’t do right, it actually stands out to me as a really good breakdown of what expectations in the space actually are, and what one can do correctly. It generally just comes down to accountability, and transparency - some of the base tenets that make up the philosophy of decentralization.
One of the things that I love to hear from folks is how shifting to new communities have impacted their lives positively. While we are all seeing the problematic nature of a hype and profit driven creative economy, whether it’s the traditional one or one built on blockchain technology, we are also able to acknowledge the positive impact our form of congregation has had for creatives.
In Hato’s case, she was not part of online communities prior to this, so it’s really fascinating to hear how she went from being a weeb to switching gears to seriously drawing anime. This is where the importance of technology shines for me. The life changing discoveries for her were a product of an absolute intersection of modern technology: the blockchain, getting an iPad to draw on, and online tutorials. If that’s not one of the most 2020s thing a digital artist can do, I’m not sure what is.
From birds and anime, to head-wings and brighter art, Hato’s experience as an artist in an age of social media is a greatly honest peek into what it’s like being an artist on the blockchain. She’s very positive, and simultaneously very objectively clear about how screwy things are out here. It’s refreshing to talk to other artists that are capable of seeing the potential of NFTs, but not afraid to talk about how entirely fucked the mental health aspects of it all can be.
Technology is great, because it helps us discover more, learn more, and support others. Technology is also brutal, because it makes us feel alone, and is wildly out of our control, which results in weird modifiers for defining value. Quality and quantity seem to wildly fluctuate in the world of crypto art, much like a currency’s fiat equivalence. But why the shit are we treating art like it’s a currency? Unless the art was specifically created with that in mind, it’s simply that: art.
Well, maybe we are not, as artists and collectors who are in it for the art, but we don’t exactly represent the majority. It’s a lot to keep track of, and Hato mentioned how she can’t even keep up with what current trends are. Hello, fellow artist, none of us have any idea what’s going on around here half the time!
Make sure you follow her on Twitter to get updates on what she’s up to, check out her work listed on Foundation, and feel free to engage with any of us about cooking tips. We’re here for the food first and foremost I think; maybe we’re just the type of creatives that can’t make good art on an empty stomach.
Up next will be a very thoughtful and honest discussion with the great Eyes of Lamia, another great appreciator of food! (But also an incredibly talented digital artist).
Transmission #19 - Hato