VINYL UTOPIA

James Jarvis has created utopia. Unfortunately he's not God, and it's not for the likes of us: it's reserved for his bevy of designer-vinyl toys, with the iconic Martin - his first venture into toy design, named after his dad - leading the pack.

It's one of several parallel universes to trip from the pencil of the world-renowned designer as he endeavours to build "a world which isn't tainted by the filth, misery and decadence of our own existence."

Tainted by filth and misery maybe, but the real world has elevated Jarvis to become a figurehead of the vinyl toy industry. His potato-headed motley crew of characters are synonymous with the medium, and have not only driven the scene further into the mainstream but stomped all over it in our world and their own.

Confined only by the limits of their creator's imagination, they even flit between universes with the magic slide that transports Rusty and Wiggs - the stars of Jarvis' comic Vortigern's Machine and the Great Sage of Wisdom - into alternate dimensions and mysterious, fantastical worlds.

Speaking in a recent D&AD Presidential Lecture, he shed some light on his inspirations and the birth of his self-made empire. "It seems like a massive indulgence to talk about myself. I hope I don't disappoint," is his modest disclaimer. Reluctant and passionate in equal measure, he sets off on a whistle-stop tour of his life, creations and ambitions.

Drawing inspiration from places as far-flung as his characters' fantastical postcodes, Jarvis admits that many of his formative years came before he hit double figures. "Everything that's inspired me visually came to my attention by the time I was six," he declares, perhaps explaining his fondness for Lego.

Those familiar Danish building blocks bring a mathematical rationale to his toys, assembling components into something greater than the sum of its parts. Consumed by the process of design, Jarvis proclaims that such a clear and logical process "makes art more down to earth: you can do it as a job in a very ordinary way."

Flipping through art books as a child, pictures of artists "wearing dungarees, with pencils behind their ears" stuck in his mind. "They were just like plumbers, but they happened to make art," he recalls.

Hergé, creator of Tin Tin, is another influence - particularly his technique of taking extracts from human civilization and adding his own sheen, building in-depth personalities and complex worlds for them to live in. Then there's Richard Scarry, the children's illustrator who plays God with his animals, sketching a world where sheep and goats live side by side, in trousers with special holes for their tails to poke out.

Combining selective elements of our world with logical design processes is fundamental to Jarvis' work. Well-rounded both physically and mentally, each of his toys is prescribed a personality - and there are over seventy. "They bleed and think and philosophise," he insists. "They're full of ethos and empathy, and are quite existential characters."

But he's keen to qualify his relationship with the toy industry: "I like toys - they're interesting - but they're not my obsession. I never wanted to make toys; what I love is drawing. People that I venerate as the benchmark of creativity are Richard Scarry and Hergé - people that make a living out of drawing."

Blending these two media, design and drawing, is not simply indulgent artistic practice; Jarvis confesses that he simply cannot make a living from drawing alone. How then has he managed to, somewhat unwittingly perhaps, become the pioneer of the UK vinyl toy industry?

His meandering path started with a series of casual events, collaborations and commissions that helped to progress his work and develop his portfolio. But first and foremost was just hanging out at the skate emporium, Slam City Skates.

During his studies at University in Brighton, he spent much of his time learning how to draw things in relation to a background, setting characters in a time and space, a ‘now,' so they weren't floating on a white abyss - also known as a piece of paper.

This interest in landscapes, particularly urban ‘skate' environments, paired with his time spent at Slam City Skates, introduced him to Sofia Prantera and Russell Waterman. They set him free to design a catalogue for their clothing company Homes, and his continued relationship with them became ever more prosperous when they left to set up their own label, Silas.

For the company launch, instead of a traditional leafleting and poster campaign, the new brand decided to develop a toy. And they soon realised that Jarvis' constant striving for an ideal reality would lend itself perfectly to a vinyl canvas.

A fusion of illustration and design provides an ideal medium, enabling the characters to come to life in 3D form whilst still providing an illustrious environment for them to inhabit. His illustrations have become part of a wider process - the building set as part of a landscape, or the communication between artist and toy manufacturer, yet still hailing back to the impetus of the initial design.

Jarvis' initial toy design for Silas was conceived a long time ago in toy years. Around seven years ago, before the likes of Clutter magazine and the very recent Vinyl Abuse online toy forum and magazine, manufacturing companies in the UK were reluctant to share his vision for a pint-sized ‘Martin'.

So they went to Japan and a company called Bounty Hunter who managed the production. True to his self-effacing nature, Jarvis confesses "I was disappointed... I must have drawn it wrong."

The compromise between developing a perfect conception of the world and settling for a finished good is a never-ending wrestling match in James' head. Although he admires simple processes, he admits that commissioned illustrations from Toto, the Japanese Football Lottery Company and legendary fashion bible The Face made him somewhat disillusioned from the process of drawing, scanning, vectoring and finally retouching every detail of the work. "People were hiring me and my conception of the world, but weren't necessarily getting the best out of me," he laments.

So he reverted back to simple drawing; drawing for the sake of it. There will always be imperfections in these, but his philosophy is that "mistakes are part of it; they are just as good as the bad bits, and make the good bits better."

Drawings are the crucial part of the process however. The toys are a manifestation of a drawing: it's the inspiration; the toy is the canvas. But much more than other works of art, they stand tall with their own identities. "The beauty about toys is that they are self-explanatory. They work as artwork, a plaything or a collectable item - they're in shops and you can buy them."

With the company behind his figures, Amos Toys, Jarvis is keen to counter the common ethos of vinyl toy enthusiasts worldwide of collectibility and exclusivity of the products. Through their guerrilla eBay store, people in the know can purchase excerpts from the toy village they've assembled. "We never wanted to make limited edition things for the sake of it," he explains. "Everything is limited: there are limits to how many you can make of anything. We wanted to sell as many as we thought we could."

Inscribed with tremendous cultural and monetary value, Amos creations are increasingly seen as a tradable currency. "I worry that people will be disappointed if they try to speculate and sell them for more on eBay, and I feel guilty because possibly they're wrong. Something else might come along that people like better."

From a seemingly compromised existence living off commissioned illustrations, Jarvis' portfolio has swelled to immeasurable proportions. He's now in the enviable position where he can commission himself, steering through drawing, character design, toy manufacturing and comic sketching. His complete worlds are a place where lampposts are to scale and skateboards don't look like lollypop sticks with wheels. Enter at your own risk: it's really quite addictive.

LINKS

homepage.mac.com/james.jarvis
www.amostoys.com
www.silasandmaria.com
www.dandad.org
www.slamcity.com

Text: Helen Byrne
Photography: Dave Remes