From AAA Artist to Small Studio Founder: What Creative Freedom Really Costs

Introduction

Leaving a major studio to build your own can look like the ultimate form of creative freedom. You choose the people, the projects, and the direction.

But you also become responsible for finding work, paying salaries, protecting the team, and making decisions that may determine whether the company survives.

Isaac Hannaford spent nearly nine years at Bungie, helping shape Halo and Destiny, before co-founding Endeavor One.

In this interview, Isaac talks about what changes when an AAA artist becomes a studio owner, what happens when the work disappears, and how leading an entire company changed him as a creative leader.

↓ Artwork by Isaac Hannaford

Main Topics

• AAA vs indie studios
• Creative freedom
• Studio leadership
• Team building
• Artist hiring

Interview with Isaac Hannaford, Former Bungie Lead Concept Artist on Halo and Destiny, and Co-Founder and Art Director at Endeavor One

Q: Where is it easier to go grey: inside a large studio or at the helm of your own small one?

You have experienced both: leading concept art inside Bungie and helping run an independent studio.

Yeah, strangely it’s mostly the same job…it’s primarily a scale and perspective change.

You’re still hiring, coaching, leading, managing, learning new tools, pitching ideas up the chain and down the chain, but you’re plugging in higher.

You can see more of the project, how it needs to be positioned in the market, how the timeline is going to affect scope and quality and the kinds of strategies you’ll pursue to make the best of both.

↓ Artwork by Isaac Hannaford

Which pressures disappeared when you left AAA?

I wouldn’t say any pressures disappear, but the expectations change. The box a game needs to fit in changes.

You’re still trying to get the most out of your resources, people, time, budget and platform.

The biggest change is the public scrutiny. Myself and many of my team mates went from having the world’s attention on us and our work to flying well below the radar.

We missed the easy exposure, but our peace of mind definitely benefited from being able to cook in private until we were ready.

↓ Artwork by Isaac Hannaford

Which new ones did you only discover after other people’s jobs and salaries depended on the decisions you made?

Well you nailed the big one on the head.

Having families and your friends dependent on you making well researched and thoughtful choices and seeing them suffer the consequences when you fail to do that makes for a heavy load on your shoulders.

I think we did the best we could with that…starting with being transparent with our team about choices the studio had in front of it, outlining risks, and benefits, keeping people apprised of our runway.

All of those things and providing a safe and supportive environment for discussion helped us recruit and retain an amazing team.

Q: Starting your own studio puts your hands on the wheel. But how often can you actually steer where you want?

A founder may have more creative influence, but clients, budgets, schedules, and the need to keep the team working still shape the direction.

Where did founding Endeavor One give you real creative freedom?

Our freedom varied from project to project.  One thing that was consistent is that smaller budgets inspire significantly less direction from large funders.  We worked on Licenses, original I.P. and work for hire. Partly because of our experience and partly because of the partners we chose, we had a lot of trust imparted to us and consequently were able to decide for ourselves how best to serve a project or an idea.  I found the most freedom derived from being able to influence a project or idea across the entirety of its development rather than from one particular facet like concept art.  

↓ Artwork by Isaac Hannaford

Where did you discover that owning the studio still did not mean having complete control? 

Most of the more challenging moments occurred due to choices or circumstances created outside our studio.  We started work on our most ambitious project months before the beginning of the Covid Pandemic and that had a major impact on our small studio as we navigated work from home, health protocols, and the sudden disruption of available and timely outsourcing partners.  

At other points, poor planning/communication between Clients and third party partners sometimes caused serious challenges for our studio, specifically when we needed to rely on the client to negotiate and plan on our behalf.  

Q: What happens to your relationship with art when making art is no longer your only responsibility?

At Bungie, creating and directing art was central to your role. At Endeavor One, your attention also had to go toward hiring, clients, planning, budgets, and problems across the company.

Was it difficult to accept that your own artwork could no longer come first?

Logically it was easy to accept that I wouldn’t be able to spend as much time doing art.  I trusted my team and I understood what my role required.  Emotionally though, it was challenging both to find the time outside of work for a creative outlet, but also knowing when and how much to hand off to your team.  

↓ Artwork by Isaac Hannaford

How did you decide when the team needed you as an artist and when it needed you to step away from the art?

Most of the time the needs of the project and the abilities of the team made that easy to navigate, but sometimes those guidelines get very murky.  In those moments it’s important to really objectively understand yourself and your team and their needs, because the choices made when it’s most murky often bring the most consequences.  

Q: What do you do when you have a strong team but no projects for them?

A studio can have talented people, a respected portfolio, and years of experience, yet still reach a point when potential clients say no, go silent, or choose someone else.

What did you do first when the project pipeline dried up?

We did two things.  We devoted two of our founders full time to drumming up work and touching base with our networks.  Simultaneously we kicked off a 2 week game jam.  Our team came up with a dozen great ideas, several of which were either used directly or inspired choices made on the following projects.  Out of our last and final attempt at the studio we selected a very promising idea and budgeted for a vertical slice to accompany our pitch work.  We had a couple potential partners and were moving into contract discussions when the bottom of the VR space shifted dramatically and then dropped out from under us.  We had worked up to the end of our runway with a reasonable chance at success only to find the entire space collapsing.  It was a difficult choice to close the studio but we brought our team along with us on the journey and they knew what was on the line.  

↓ Artwork by Isaac Hannaford

How long can a founder protect the team before that decision begins to threaten the company itself?

The only way to truly protect the team and the future of the studio is to earn your employees respect as an honest and supportive place to work, and then tell them the truth and hope for the best.  You may lose some team members, but the morale and trust that you earn if you survive to the other side of a crisis like the one we faced ensures a much stronger and positive studio environment on the other side.

How do you keep good people when there is not enough work and a larger studio can offer them more stability?

Trust.  When your team trusts you and knows you’re fighting for them, especially more seasoned professionals understand how rare that is and it buys you a lot of loyalty and patience.  Letting them flex their creative muscles in down time also serves to both reward that patience but also gives you another chance to understand and admire them as creatives.  

↓ Artwork by Isaac Hannaford

In those periods, what actually made a difference: personal relationships, conferences, changing the studio’s offer, or something else?

Personal relationships made the biggest difference at our studio.  That and interesting internal projects.  

Looking back, is there anything you wish you had done earlier?

I wish we’d pursued our long time goal of becoming a two project studio.  We had plans to develop a small team that could ship VR projects on a 6 to 12 month timeline.  Something I think we were well positioned to do and could have had many positive benefits, but ultimately our collective will and the needs of our main projects caused us to fall short of fully taking the plunge.  

Q: How did leading an entire studio make you a stronger creative leader?

Art direction teaches you how to protect the quality and visual identity of a project. Running a studio also makes you responsible for choosing the right people, connecting different disciplines, managing pressure, and keeping the whole team moving together.

What do you understand now about building and leading teams that you could not have learned through art direction alone?

When hiring for our studio I weighted ability and personality/communication equally and I believe that saved us and served us incredibly well.   I found communications problems and personnel issues were the biggest indicators of short term failure and long term disruption.  Choosing people who are open to learning, are positive and confident in their abilities is a much bigger indicator of success than raw skill or experience.  

↓ Artwork by Isaac Hannaford

How has that changed the way you would enter a new project today?

Exemplifying those positive traits is where I would start as an individual contributor and then building my team around that is how I would proceed.   

What kind of team or project would benefit most from the leader you have become?

I think any team could benefit from the lessons I’ve learned and consequently the experience I bring to a team.  However, I think teams that are building and growing are where I those lessons have the best chance of being applied and adopted.  

Advice for Young Artists

Q: When hiring artists for a small studio, what did you notice first?

Young artists may not have major credits or years of production experience. A small studio, however, cannot afford many hiring mistakes.

What made you believe that a young artist could become someone the team could rely on?

A good portfolio tells a lot, as well as having good references.  Ultimately for me it comes down to the interview.  I look for a positive attitude, excitement and a strong desire to learn.  I want to hear them clearly articulate their ideas and express what motivates them.   Red flags are showing disdain for any part of the process, bragging, spending too much time talking about what they didn’t like about another job person or project, and anything else that suggests working with them would require catering to them.  

The hires that went the furthest were as good as their word, asked for help when they needed it and quickly communicated when they ran ahead or behind schedule.  This made our producers’ jobs much easier, and meant we could rely on those employees.  Some produced junior level results and some quickly rose to more senior positions, but their reliability made everyone’s lives easier and got us where we needed to go without issue.

I always advise my young hires that they don’t owe companies or bad managers anything and to start looking for a new job if things don’t feel right.  Show respect to your team and the project and if you have to leave, leave on a good note.  The industry is small and word gets around, so be a positive presence and respect yourself and know your worth.  

↓ Artwork by Isaac Hannaford

What can an artist show beyond polished portfolio images to earn that trust?

Show your work.  I want to see the process and the story behind how you made your creative decisions.  Where you took influence and how you interpreted the art direction.  I want to understand how you work so I can trust your thought process.  I want to know when I hand off a task that it’s going to be considered and that you’re going to collaborate with the right members of the team.  

Advice for Art Directors

Q: When should an art director leave a company like Bungie and start their own studio?

Being ready to lead art is not the same as being ready to find projects, manage money, hire people, and take responsibility for a company.

What should already be in place before an art director takes that step?

Nobody succeeds in a vacuum.  If you’re ready to break out, start by networking.  Find your discords, your social groups, your conferences and any local organizations that can support an entrepreneur.  If possible, find collaborators you know and trust to start a studio with you.  Understand that picking a business partner is like picking a spouse.  You’re going to be glued to them for a long time and you need to communicate all the time about your shared goals and responsibilities.  

↓ Artwork by Isaac Hannaford

Which signs suggest that they are ready?

Knowing the kind of work involved and being prepared for that, as well as having a realistic timeline for success are important.  

If you know who to ask to answer the questions you don’t know that you don’t know yet.  

If you have a positive relationship with your team.  Trust goes both up and down the chain.

Which signs mean they should probably stay where they are a little longer?

If the above doesn’t sound like you, then you’ve got work to put in.