PS1s, BPMs, and 3D Worlds
with Artist Jasper Golding
Published by SEVENSTORE

Author: Millie Throp

Madcap. Wildcard. Recluse. Admittedly, ‘researcher’ is not a moniker traditionally tagged on the back of an artist or maker. Hence, it’s with faulty rationale that academics and artists are perceived with separate skill sets, when their modus is often more alike than dissimilar. Irrespective of finished outcome - whether a thousand-word thesis or acrylic on canvas - the work of both scholar and craftsman stems from common creative thinking.

By the same stroke, an educational institution and its hushed acoustics isn’t a setting that likely beckons the visual practitioner either. Their impulse and spontaneity proposing a seeming antithesis to its alphabetical order. Yet, take the New York Public Library Picture Collection as an exception in such case studies, and the pursuit of research bodes a more colourful affair.

Enclosed with renaissance grandeur amongst Manhattan’s Upper West Side, the archive is an abundant roster of prints, portraits, and publication clippings that predate the 19th century. Therefore, inlaid with frames of anatomical drawings, 2000s Moschino ads, and Mardi Gras captured first-hand on film, the resource has ordinarily spurred many monoliths of the city’s art circuit since its founding in 1915. Perhaps most strikingly, Andy Warhol and Diego Rivera.

What’s more, the Picture Collection’s commitment to the arts has birthed a further offshoot since starting their Artist Takeovers in 2017. Inviting neighbouring authors, studios, and store owners onboard as monthly curators of their Instagram, local talents gain exposure by responding to a theme with the archive’s imagery. Ergo, at the turn of each month, motley, handpicked snippets are paraded online for the platform’s now 50K following, echoing the modes of a global exhibition.

So, in the spirit of collaboration, Essential Journal caught up with supervising librarian Jessica Cilne to ponder the rise of the institute’s social presence, amidst a dusting-off of the library’s sepia anthologies. Responding to our queries via email, Cilne shares her doted experiences as a native New Yorker, voicing that just as anyone can become an artist, in our world of visuality, everyone’s a researcher.





In a coastal Devon upbringing, Golding opposed the fluidity of neighbouring waves when offered the rigidity of plastic bricks, mirroring the pixelated characters he would go on to imagine. “I have that classic interview memory of my dad using Lego really wrong,” he starts, his humour attributing to an easy-going nature. “Taking things and misusing them; that’s a really cool process,” he states, elaborating, “that steps through to my 3D stuff and working in games…it’s a lot of hacking things together in the wrong way”.

Today, Jasper’s creative lens can be seen as a product of his younger days, not only through his time spent on consoles that now class as ‘retro,’ but learned from each parental figure in turn. “My mum did art lessons on a Wednesday, and then my dad was more computer orientated,” he notes, surfacing the early sources of his eventual process: merging abstraction with warping cyber structures.

For makers, an age-old debate is the question of whether to hone into one craft or stay open to a more hybrid artistry. In Jasper’s case, this conflict arose early on, where an educator’s generalisation fortunately materialised into something open-minded. “My Art Foundation degree was where my lecturer was like, ‘oh, you’re an illustrator’. But I ended up hanging out with the fine art crowd, field recording and making feedback loops,” he recounts, hinting at the role melody and interdisciplinary making would later play in his work.

Then, “at Uni it was: ‘find your style and stick to it’,” Golding explains. So, while it can be valid for artists to underpin their aesthetic in a bid for commerciality, Jasper finds wins in risks, transfiguring traditional design codes as he encounters greater gateways. “If you’ve found a style where you’re getting work, then you might want to keep doing that. But I think it’s more rewarding to learn a new technique, then run with it,” he discloses. Valuing effort and eclecticism, Jasper represents a novel standpoint. Where personal fulfilment offers remuneration for his non-static process, his appetite for learning crafts a rare receptiveness amidst a saturated creative scene; it’s never reduced to one technique or visual identity.





In light of his multifarious practice, symphony also adds dimension for Jasper where sourced garage beats and bassline lay backdrop to his moving image work. “Even at Uni I was making rave flyers; album covers; music videos,” he hums, noting “making an animation and laying the music on gets me so gassed”. And in retrospect, music sang prescient messages to the artist time ago, introducing him to the command-driven, computer systems now integral to his craft. “Producing was my first introduction into sequencing. It’s the same as in 3D, except with an audio output,” he underlines.

Snowballing, his interests shape shifted after education, hooking new mediums before finally selecting 3D digital design. With many techniques traced back since his scholastic years, as our conversation progressed, it became clear that each still hold a seminal influence on the artist’s vast toolkit.

Zooming into the present, Jasper takes inspiration from the 2000s: an era likened to a computer’s underbelly, where glitches give life to sunken definition. “For me, it’s a time of massive warmth,” he begins. “I was born in ’96, so by the noughties I was playing video games on the computer. It’s easier to put across my ideas within that framework – pretending I have the same limitations”. And in approaching primitive principles with ultra-modern technique, Jasper revels in his self-invented vortex. “It’s almost this feeling of being in a liminal space, but in terms of time,” he notes. With nostalgia creating a portal to simpler times, his graphics emulate the possibilities prior to 4K or HD, seeming at the precipice of an “old-school” aesthetic whilst also unifying future generations with his use of progressive programmes.

But it is upon considering these current advancements that his jerking creations benefit further from contrast. “The fact they exist alongside high-res – coming towards photo-realistic graphics – is interesting. It means I can move a light around in a torch style, something you wouldn’t have been able to do back then without some wizardry,” he describes, listing specific muses as “PC games, PS1, PS2 and Sega Genesis”.






Moreover, Bristol’s abundant landscape has its impact also, with galleries and sound systems enhancing his time outside of design, as well as the work itself. “If you want to do open mic; make ambient music; or art, it’s got all of it,” he lists, grinning as he goes on to mention a niche hotspot. “This place called The Cube has an indie film night. Everyone is lined up with their own films and then this drab person introduces them. That’s got character,” he concludes, before ending his routine with “generally lurking about – and lots of partying”.

With his home a crucible for artisans of many sectors, it is sensical that his commissions are often localised. A graffiti covered haunt in the south of the city, Golding recently digitally reimagined a local dive for an animation – peeling wallpaper included. “The Bell is such a fun pub. Once I’d started making the walls it was impossible to navigate and add details. It probably took upwards of 25 hours,” he recounts, amplifying his granular attention and extensive work ethic.

Consequently, in uploading his transformative taproom to the screens of its real-life punters, Jasper not only encourages immortality despite numerous venue closures across the UK but kickstarts others creative imaginings into fruition. “People say they’ve been waiting to see a PS1 reimagining of that place,” he confirms. And whilst a credit to his locale, he also proves that his skills can afford a new pub experience, calling to those less enamoured by its overcrowding and sticky surfaces. With the pub heralded as a working-class venue, the artists digital platform only offers another universal access point to community, reinventing community for the next generation.

In appreciation of cyber social spaces, a WhatsApp chat titled “3D Homies”, sees Jasper’s like-minded peers put investment into the arts from different ends of the internet. “It’s funny that our communal grounds are still a pub. It’s a good place to get loose, but it’s hard to get us out because we’re all very introverted,” he underlines. “I wouldn’t be in touch with half the people I am if it wasn’t for the interconnectivity of these spaces – they’re super key for me,” he disclaims, ensuring the collaborative, creative experience still stays ajar for those enthused by virtual existence, via outlets that better suit their high-tech specialisms.






But with the pitfalls of access privileges and higher-educational barriers floating around the subject of technical learning, Jasper’s self-taught story to reclaim free, accessible education and design stands as a counterpoint. Starting out with a modicum of experience, he was keen to pass the baton through tutorials, leaving out the jargon. “You see so much content out there and people just skim over things,” he explains, showcasing a need to vocalise the processes that brought him purpose in life and career.

So, as the online realm offers refuge for some, it goes further for others, platforming escapism and self-expression of an arguably higher calibre than that which can be touched. Within Golding’s 9-5 work for a user-friendly plug-in, he permits ‘V-Tubers’ to livestream as digital avatars of their own making. “At first, I thought it was a bit ‘metaverse-y’, but it’s actually a beautiful thing because it’s democratised”, believing that anonymity could be the new face of freedom. “You see these people existing in their own worlds. I’ve seen them in real life and it’s a total change of person,” he adds, concluding with: “although the metaverse had a negative start, it’s becoming an amazing tool”. Whilst at first criticised for its ties to the elite, these systems now inspire individuality for the many, giving the more reserved a platform to play away from judging gazes, in an arena all of their own.

In summarising his journey, Golding wraps up with an opportunity from earlier this year, where one night in New York saw his computer-born concepts constructed like never before. Through the guerrilla instalment of a steel cast figure, a euphoric milestone was marked for the maker. “It was a total shock,” Jasper explains, commending his US based accomplice Danny Cole in making the congenial form come to life for his project, ‘Creature World’. “More of those would be good,” the marvel affirms, looking to further diversified methods on his horizon.

In having dived beneath the surface to where Jasper’s angular creatures take leaps in advancements, mirroring an evolving yet timeless aesthetic, he then seems fixated on simplifying his experiences with a moral message. Giving back to the internet’s creative counsel and the purpose he finds in idiosyncrasy, he ponders upon the hope that meaning comes across between his fictional figures and fantastical realms, cutting through the noise of our faltering connection with: “fake it until you make it, and keep trying to learn”.