No Need to Imagine, Anymore

A couple of months ago, two British Shorthair cats touched their paws down on UK soil. Brothers, but polar opposites; accustomed to hot temperatures. One’s wild, the other is the feline embodiment of chill. “One is crazy, and one is calm,” Morteza Parsadan tells me, both pride and amusement in his voice. He’s their dad, of course.

I first came across Morteza’s name in the credits of some of the slickest VFX work floating around online. A CG artist with a knack for detail, he’s now head of CG at Covert, the post-house defining their own space. 

We at Little Black Book met the team at Covert through a stroke of serendipity a few years ago, and there’s something disarmingly real about them. They’re the no-frills, no-ego, no bullshit kind of people who make you want to stick around, and their work speaks volumes. No glossy high-rises or overpriced offices here. Just ridiculously talented humans working remotely from their own spaces - long before it became trendy.

On Origins

Nowadays we’re seeing companies revert back, many omitting the obvious value we’ve witnessed in employee happiness and work ethic. But where the world pulls back into the past, Covert stands strong. Certain in the decision they’ve made, and the reasons behind it.

That’s how they became acquainted with Morteza. He was born in a small city in Iran, before moving to the capital, Tehran, for university. Back then, Morteza recalls spending days on end in his bedroom, locked away in the makebelieve worlds that he experienced through gaming. There was something about the immersiveness that spoke to him. After studying art direction in gaming, a friend floated an idea that would change everything. “He said, ‘Do you want to create 3D models of cars so you can rotate around them?’” Morteza laughs. “I thought, of course! That’s how it all started.”

From there, he fell into advertising - a world of noise and chaos that felt, somehow, just right. He interned at a family-run studio in Tehran before climbing the ladder at some of the country’s largest agencies. Five years of relentless work later, he was a CG supervisor. But there was a cost. “For six years, I was barely home,” he says. “I slept in the studio. It got so frustrating, I finally resigned and started freelancing.”

Freelancing offered freedom and a different kind of pressure. A friend pulled him into the world of feature films, where Morteza worked on three movies over 18 months. The long-form format appealed to his sense of storytelling.

But life in Iran was wearing thin. “Prices kept changing, there was always bad news, and no vision for a better future,” he explains.

He and his wife decided to leave.

The First Foot On the Ladder

Their next stop was Istanbul, where Morteza’s talent found him opportunities with local studios. One gig led to another, and before long Covert appeared on the horizon. “Covert was my first international company,” he says. “It was a big shift, especially with English as the primary language. In the beginning, I was nervous - shaking when I had to chat with the team.” He pauses, laughing. “Your English is amazing,” I tell him. “Thanks!” he replies, clearly still a little bashful. 

"But the people at Covert always made me feel normal. Like one of them."

Covert gave Morteza the freedom to grow. Its remote-first, flexible approach was the perfect match. “I started as a 3D artist, but I wanted to show them what I could do. They gave me the space to prove myself,” he says.

Bearing Witness

Art is a powerful thing. While much of the art we create is for the purpose of selling, sometimes something slips through the cracks to communicate the more important bits of our positioning. The more necessary. Demanding us to bear witness.

That happened last year when at Little Black Book’s own award show, The Immortals, a certain piece of work was awarded. You know the one. It was authorless and creditless for acute fear of prosecution; the film showed us the realities of what women in Iran were facing.

And it took everything we had not to look away.

Morteza’s home country was, and is, being wardened by thieves of freedom.

Creative Freedom, At Last 

Where other employers may have said “it is what it is”—separating payroll from person, reality from responsibility - Covert took another avenue. They worked tirelessly to get Morteza and his wife over to the UK. And of course, their cats. The team looked head-on at the ugly visa process - despite obstacles, they would not back down.

I first heard about this after the LBB Better Together event. In an overcrowded pub in Camden, Covert’s Ben Dubois told me about their endeavour to help their beloved artist. When I tried to congratulate Ben - and by default, Covert, for their goodwill, I was met with, “No. That’s just what you do for your people.”

Morteza is excited about what is ahead. He’s slowly becoming acquainted with the British weather. When I ask him about a ‘dream project’, he says he doesn’t need to dream. He is overcome with ideas on how to improve the work and his team. He says that with a passport like this in his hands, he doesn’t need to imagine.

And if you’re wondering, the cats are settling in just fine.