{ "@context": "https://schema.org", "@type": "Person", "name": "Rich Allport", "alternateName": "Richard Allport", "url": "https://www.mandograt.com", "email": "enquiries@mandograt.com", "telephone": "+44-771-0500-891", "jobTitle": "Art Director and Concept Artist", "description": "Freelance Art Director, Concept Artist and Illustrator with 30+ years of experience across Computer Games, Feature Films, Animated Television, Theme Parks and Experiential Design.", "knowsAbout": [ "Art Direction", "Concept Art", "Illustration", "Character Design", "Environment Design", "3D Sculptural Design", "Special Effects Make-up", "Experiential Design", "AAA Game Development", "Children's Animated Television" ], "worksFor": { "@type": "Organization", "name": "Man Dog Rat" }, "alumniOf": [], "sameAs": [], "hasOccupation": { "@type": "Occupation", "name": "Art Director", "occupationLocation": { "@type": "Country", "name": "United Kingdom" } } }
top of page

Invisible Art Direction in Computer Games.

  • Writer: Richard Allport
    Richard Allport
  • Jul 3
  • 3 min read

If you asked someone what an art director does in the games industry they would probably imagine someone sketching characters, environments, or creating beautiful concept art. It's an understandable assumption, after all, the word art is right there in the job title.


The reality in my experience is often very different.


As an art director, there are days when I don't create a single piece of artwork. No concept sketches or illustrations. If someone saw what I did, they'd mostly see me in meetings, creating documents, giving feedback, having conversations, and decision-making. To an outside observer, it might not even look like creative work at all.


That's because art direction isn't primarily about making art, it's about making decisions. Its not so much about working with images as working with people.


One of the strange things about art direction is that it's difficult to demonstrate. An environment artist can point to a level they built. A character artist can show a model. An animator can play a cinematic.


An art director often has very little that's tangible to say, "I made this."


Instead, the contribution is spread across hundreds of conversations…should the world feel grounded or exaggerated? Does this character fit the tone? Is the lighting telling the right emotional story? Are we sacrificing readability for realism? Should we spend another month polishing this feature, or move the team onto something more valuable?


These decisions accumulate over months or even years until they become the identity of the game. Yet none of them exist as something that can appear in your portfolio.


A large part of the job is creating clarity for everyone else; artists need to understand the visual target, designers need to understand how visuals support gameplay. producers need to understand where quality matters most, leadership needs confidence that everyone is pulling in the same direction.


None of that happens by accident. It happens through constant communication.

The meetings aren't a distraction from the work…the meetings are the work.


Good art direction means aligning dozens or sometimes hundreds of people around a shared vision. Every discussion removes ambiguity. Every critique sharpens quality. Every decision prevents countless hours of wasted effort later.


Ironically, becoming more senior often means creating less artwork yourself, and that can be a difficult adjustment, it was for me initially, and especially for other people who entered the industry because they loved drawing or image creation.


At first, it can even feel like you're no longer contributing, but your impact changes rather than disappears.


Instead of producing ten pieces of concept art, you might help fifty artists produce work that is stronger, more consistent, and more focused than they could have achieved independently.

Your influence assists or directs other people.

 

The challenge is that invisible work is easy to underestimate.


At the end of a busy week, there may be nothing obvious to show. No dramatic before and after comparison, no finished asset, instead, there is a game that is a little more cohesive, a team that is a little more aligned, a vision that is a little clearer.


Those outcomes rarely fit neatly into a portfolio, but they are often what determine whether a project succeeds in keeping or losing its identity.


The games industry often celebrates visible craftsmanship, and rightly so. Beautiful assets deserve recognition, but there is another layer of creativity that receives far less attention.

Choosing between competing ideas, helping talented people do their best work, protecting a vision from a thousand small compromises, creating an environment where good decisions become the default.


None of those things produce screenshots, but all of them shape the screenshots everyone eventually sees.


Perhaps that's the paradox of art direction. Much like editing, the better you do it, the less obvious your contribution becomes. The work disappears into the finished game, leaving behind not a collection of drawings, but a cohesive experience that feels as though it could never have been any other way.

 
 

Recent Posts

The Importance of Narrative in Experiential Design.

In the world of theme park design, rides, attractions, and immersive spaces aren’t just about thrills or spectacle, they’re about storytelling. Narrative is the backbone of experiential design, transf

 
 
bottom of page