Showing posts with label feature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label feature. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 29, 2019

Game Guide: How To Get To Des Moines, Iowa In Insomniac’s 'Spider-Man'


The vast majority of last year’s PS4 hit Spider-Man takes place in a lovingly recreated Manhattan, but did you know there’s a secret way for Spidey to leave the Big Apple and visit Des Moines, Iowa? Read on to find out how you too can reach this unsung jewel of the Midwest.

The streets of Manhattan are littered with all kinds of cars, and as you might expect, they all have New York license plates. All except for one that is. First, you’ll want to head up to the southwest corner of Central Park. There you’ll find a hot dog vendor that you can interact with. Greet the hot dog vendor 29 times (Iowa was the 29th state added to the USA) and you’ll hear a dog say, “Slipknot rules.” At this point you can keep playing the game as normal, but you need to wait exactly 515 (Des Moines’ area code) minutes in real life to trigger the next part of the secret and make sure you’re standing in this same exact spot

Upon returning to that same southwest corner after 515 minutes. The hot dog vendor will vanish in a puff of smoke and in their place will appear a 1997 Ford Aerostar with Iowa plates that read “GR8 PLNS.” This is your ride. Use your web shooters to hotwire the van and get behind the wheel. Now all you have to do is drive to Des Moines. Some people would suggest taking the Lincoln Tunnel, but I highly recommend heading up to the GW bridge because that’ll put you right onto I-80 and then it’s pretty much a straight shot for the next 17 hours. Bring change for tolls.

Once you finally arrive in Des Moines, use the game’s built-in photo mode to take glorious pictures and goofy selfies around all the famous Des Moines landmarks. It’s a very comfortable and affordable(!) place to live. Consider settling down and taking a job at an insurance company. Rest assured, life is about to get a lot easier for your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Please, visit Des Moines!

[Note: this post was originally written as part of an application for a satirical games site]

Monday, January 16, 2017

Top 10 Games of 2016

Before we get to the list, I've got some notable exceptions to list here. Namely, this list is only based on the games I've spent a lot of time with, and does not include certain games that I think I will like when I finally get around to playing them, such as: Final Fantasy XV, Abzu, DOOM, and Hyper Light Drifter. Still, what's here I think makes a pretty solid top 10, and paints a promising portrait of the games to come in 2017.

10. Hitman
I haven't even played Hitman, but I have watched a lot of hours of Hitman being played and it endeared me to the embedded humor in that series that the image and public presentation of the Hitman games has never let on. It's one thing for players to purposefully go against what a game expects and find something absurdly entertaining, but Hitman teases you with those possibilities at every turn and slowly, subtly lets you know that it's OK to laugh at what's going on. I always saw Agent 47 as the personification of everything that is boring about macho bald white male protagonists in games, right down to his Bansky-knockoff neck tattoo. However, in this game, the developers, or at least the people I watched play the game, played up this straight-man routine for laughs, noting the irony that Agent 47 is supposed to be a master of disguise when very few of his costumes are terribly convincing and most of the time the dude looks like the textbook definition of "assassin." When the world of Hitman is approached as an absurdist sandbox, the game not only allows for humor, but is also relieved of the constraints of realism that is so often burden creative design.

9. Furi
There's something kind of shallow and weightless to Furi, but the slickness with which it combines fighting games, dual-joystick shooters, and character action games into a fluid, interchangeable combat system is revelatory. As I noted in my review, Furi isn't a rhythm game, but the action does click with the music at times in ways that makes you feel like you've stumbled into a hidden flow state that perhaps even the game's designers didn't fully intend. This is propelled by the soundtrack featuring some electro heavy hitters (Danger, Carpenter Brut, Toxic Avenger, Lorn) composing original synth grinds that elevate the entire experience beyond what you might expect out of a "free" Playstation Plus game.

8. Inside
I have to confess that I haven't played Inside yet either (but I will! I own a copy now), but given the linear nature of the game, I have watched most of it on YouTube. I know the story beats, and I know how it ends. It's a small story in some ways, but it builds on the foundation that Playdead began with their previous game, Limbo. More than anything, Inside is oozing with production design that seems downright tactile. I confess that my interview with composer/sound designer Martin Stig Andersen may be skewing my perspective a little bit as knowing that certain heartbeats are internally recorded actual heart thumps really enriches my engagement with what the game has to offer. Granted, maybe it's not necessary to know these behind-the-scenes details for the production design to have the same effect, and if that's the case (and judging by the high praise for the game, it is), then all the more reason to pile on the accolades.

7. Kentucky Route Zero: Act IV
Kentucky Route Zero's fourth chapter was perhaps its most anticipated. There was the longest gap between acts so far, and Act III set an incredibly high bar for emotional resonance, thanks to the character Junebug's devastating musical performance. Act IV doesn't play into the hype, instead keeping matters low-key and opting to send the hapless crew drifting downriver with less of a stated objective than a curious aloofness. All of the aesthetic trademarks are here: caves, obsolete technology, magical quirk, whiskey. The result makes less of an impact than Act III, preferring instead to literalize the importance of the journey over the destination that the series' performative play has been hinting at this whole time. As an aside, don't wait until the final act is out to start playing Kentucky Route Zero, lest you remember everything a bit too clearly.

6. Pokemon GO
A lot of folks seem to be acknowledging Pokemon GO begrudgingly, as if its mere status as a phenomenon should be enough to laud it critically. I happen to think the game deserves the praise. It's certainly not perfect and I agree with most of the criticisms that have been leveled against it, but they aren't enough to fully dampen the entertainment I've been able to wring out of this thing. I love booting the game up from my house and seeing if my yellow team still holds the gym housed in an abandoned caboose down on the train tracks, and taking it over if that's not the case. It's made me territorial of the area around my house, which is a place where, as was made starkly clear this election season, I don't see eye-to-eye with a lot of my neighbors on a lot of things. I'm only renting my apartment, but my team owns that gym, and I intend to keep it that way. Also, here's a pro tip: rename your Pokemon; the game is at least 3x more enjoyable when Bosco, Doug, and Drippy are defending your turf instead of the hundredth iterations of Arcanine, Snorlax, and Vaporeon.

5. Slither.io
I can't stop playing Slither.io. There's not that much too it, but I think that's part of what I like about it. It's deceptively simple in the way you play the game, but there are enough analog components that keep it from being something you could win with a spreadsheet. For the unfamiliar, Slither.io is like a large-scale multiplayer version of Snake (you know, that game you could play on a graphing calculator), except instead of not running into your tail, you can't run into anyone else's, and everyone else is trying to make you do just that. Some may consider it a secondary sibling to Agar.io, but I find the strategy in Slither.io more dynamic and the customization options less troll-prone. There are more options at your disposal, even as a tiny snake, than in Agar.io. In Slither.io, even the big snakes need to be on guard as one false move is an opportunity for even the smallest snake to turbo in front of you and end your run. You have to adapt strategies as you go, judging your environment and the risk/reward of heading into crowds. In fact, playing it safe as a big snake gets really boring, playing off your natural temptations to break form and take a dare.

4. AM2R
It turns out Metroid II is actually a pretty cool game, especially when you don't have to play it on a Game Boy. Joking aside, I was genuinely surprised by how much I enjoyed AM2R's take on Metroid II. The fan remake is the same basic game structure as the Game Boy original, but with graphical enhancements and a few tweaks and additions here and there. Samus is on an extermination mission to kill every last metroid, which is a horribly dark premise for those of us who are metroid sympathizers out there. However, the mutant metroids in AM2R don't go down without a fight, and the little stinger sound that plays every time one soars into frame had me jolting in fright more times than I'm willing to admit. Structurally, the game isn't all that different from other exploration-heavy Metroid titles. You still need to acquire certain items to open specific doors and traverse one obstacle or another. It's ironic to think about AM2R (literally Another Metroid 2 Remake) as just another Metroid game, but hey, those games are really good and this is a very good one of those. It just happens to have been put together by a fan with a copy of Game Maker, not Nintendo.

3. The Last Guardian
I'm still making my through The Last Guardian as of this writing, but it's left a serious impression on me. It's the sort of impression that I hoped for a long time that the game would have, but feared for just as long that I'd be let down. The way Trico, the adorable chimera, plays off of the way that I understand what my cat is trying to tell me, is pretty remarkable. Sure, I occasionally look to Trico for "videogame clues," as to what to do, but just as often I respond to the digital creature in the moment. What does it need or want? What is it trying to say? Does it actually like me or is it just using me to help it get where it wants to go? And like my cat, those answers don't seem entirely black and white. My cat might be independent and standoffish most of the time, but catch her in a particularly sleepy mood and she'll cuddle next to you on a blanket. Trico's communications are similarly non-binary, and in an environment that basically asks if the puzzle is solved or not, having those organic moments of observation and connection provide a very uncommon oasis.

2. Thumper
Ever since I played a demo of Thumper in a suffocating Airstream trailer, I've been sold on it. Actually, scratch that. Ever since Brian Gibson and Marc Flury coined the term "rhythm violence," I've been sold on Thumper. The game makes simple button presses have visceral impact. I honestly don't have too much to add that I didn't say in my review, but Thumper is a game I find myself coming back to with relative frequency. It's a game that had the guts to ask you to memorize an original score (and it is not your typical score) instead of reciting a pop/rock chart-topper. The result is a game that is about reflexes and finding patterns and discovering and internalizing where those patterns break formation. There can be a flow to Thumper, but more often than not, the game pushes against the limits of flow. It becomes a rhythm highway as survival game. With practice, you might find the music, but until then you'll be lucky just to stay alive.

1. The Witness
No game so thoroughly absorbed my attention and charged my desire to unpack its dense array of symbols, quotes, and puzzles as The Witness. I solved every puzzle in the game (thanks to some hints online) and only wish there was a Zelda-like second quest with a rearranged and remixed version of the fantasy island. There's just so much richness on display; the design is as lush as the banyan forest with all of those bridge puzzles. I mentioned in my review that I wasn't sold on the implementation of the audio-logs, and I still maintain that stance, but I can at least see, on paper, where they seem like a good idea. After all, my argument wasn't that the audio logs were bad so much as redundant and ham-fisted. The truth is that all of those highfalutin concepts are present in the design of the island and its puzzles, and they communicate those ideas with more grace than a pedantic lecture. So, I don't bring them up to complain about the game, but to show how sophisticated The Witness' construction is that it is able to translate these complex theoretical notions into the rhetoric of its systemic framework. Art, scientific fact, the human condition; these are subjects better left as subjective considerations and contextualized platforms for individual thought. The Witness' island does this, and I'm hard pressed to think of any game that's done it better.

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

2014 Year-End Wrap-Up


Even though I've been preoccupied with teaching art to college students, I've still spent plenty of time playing games this year, so I wanted to rundown a quick top 10 list of games that were released in 2014 that I enjoyed quite a bit.

1. Gran Turismo 6 (PS3)
2. Kentucky Route Zero: Act 3 (Mac)
3. Nidhogg (PS3)
4. NaissanceE (PC)
5. Terra Battle (iOS)
6. Mountain (Mac)
7. FRACT OSC (Mac)
8. Threes! (iOS)
9. Sportsfriends (PS3)
10. Desert Golfing (iOS)

Obviously I missed some games from this past year that a lot of other people are talking about, but this is the best of what I actually played. Honorable Mention to Crossy Road (iOS) and The Fall (Mac).

However, there were some other amazing games that I played this year that were released prior to 2014, and I'd like to acknowledge those in no particular order.

Gone Home
Antichamber
Mass Effect
Bayonetta
The Last of Us
Dyad
Pac-Man CE DX+ (again)

Finally, I'm not going to do a rundown of all the best things I ran on this blog, but here are a few of my favorite pieces I wrote for Kill Screen this year.

Vib-Ribbon and Obsolete Relevance
Emergents - Lilith
Changes at Games for Change
Light, Shadow, and the Beauty of NaissanceE
Genre Study - The Evolution of Music Games

Here's to more great things to come in 2015! Happy New Year!

Friday, May 30, 2014

Bonus Feature: Interview with Ian Cheng


Kill Screen magazine Issue #8 is currently available for purchase over here. The theme this time around is virtual reality; probably the most narrowly focused subject the magazine has tackled, but it does offer the chance to examine the technology from past, present, and future perspectives. I've contributed a piece to this latest issue as well, about how the Oculus Rift VR headset could potentially be a democratizing force for creators, the same way Sony's Portapak camcorder was for video art.

For my article I interviewed artist Ian Cheng, who works in a variety of media, digital and physical. I was particularly drawn to Cheng's work because of his use of the Oculus Rift for his piece Entropy Wrangler Cloud in which viewers don the headgear and look around in a world full of floating debris, each with its own weight and momentum, among other characteristics. As a viewer you can only exert minor influence on the objects as they bounce off of and around you. I spoke to Ian over email about Entropy Wrangler Cloud and how the Oculus Rift could fit into the art world. You can check out the full transcript of our conversation below.



LOW CUTOFF: For starters, just looking to confirm that "Entropy Wrangler Cloud" was the title of the piece you showed at Frieze that used the Oculus Rift. Have you done any work with the Rift since then?

Ian Cheng: Yes, it is called Entropy Wrangler Cloud. The work grew out of a larger series of live simulations I have been making called Entropy Wrangler. It's a set of objects and beings each with assigned with basic properties and behaviors and left in a closed system to influence each other. Entropy Wrangler Cloud takes place within the Entropy Wrangler simulation, but instead of seeing the simulation from an overview perspective, you are within it, one object among the many. The head tracking native to the Oculus is used by a viewer to assert some influence within the ecosystem, but unlike a hero-centric video game, you are an extremely minor influence among many other influences that are out of your control and affect your VR perspective.


LCO: Are there other artists that you know of, specifically outside of the "game" sphere, using the Oculus Rift in their work?

IC: No but I'm sure someone is making a 360 degree live action movie, or a 360 degree porn orgy, or a concert film. I can imagine artists, architects, and landscape designers using the Rift to previsualize an exhibition layout or space. I'm sure the Rift is being used for virtual reality therapy to treat PTSD.


LCO: I'm trying to get a feel for how widespread the influence of the Rift is in the art community, and whether or not it's the sort of device that could explode in popularity the way the handheld camcorder did for video art, or if it's too niche and destined for a quick burn. Any thoughts on this?

IC: The Rift, Avegant Glyph, and other VR devices will have to prove themselves on their own terms in their own markets to simply sustain themselves. As for the world of contemporary art, I believe more and more its task is to develop and act as interface to allow humans to relate and feel non-human experiences. The best art invents inside of us new patterns of feelings that exposes us, beyond rational consciousness, to ecosystems and abstractions that we have no other way of feeling. VR for me is an innovation to facilitate this. Whether Oculus Rift the company evolves to stay in the game or quickly burns in hype fire I have no idea. But as an innovation idea, the idea of sensorially entering a subjective perspective that is not your own, this is here for us to finally use and grow from.


LCO: Also, you hinted at this in the dis interview but it does feel like there's this window of opportunity for Oculus Rift creations prior to it's official launch that won't exist in the same form once it's commercially available. How do you reconcile the novelty of the gallery VR experience with the ideas you seek to convey in the piece itself?

IC: VR as an idea has been marinating inside us for a long time. People are conceptually ready for it. At Frieze London last year, I presented a Entropy Wrangler Cloud using the Rift. Beyond the Rift's novelty, the real trick was designing a comfortable neutral couch, very low to the ground, that helped remove the psychological barrier of stepping into the Rift. Like the way massage tables are designed, or how Freud covered his therapy couch in blankets to allow his patients to feel immersed in comfort and open. By making the Rift experience surrounded in comfortable normality, it was much easier for people to just focus on the experience of the work. The field of normality is really important with any new technology because it is what allows us to relate to its otherwise alien newness. This is usually the job of a marketing department, interface designers, and app makers, but since the Rift has not been officially launched yet and there is so few apps available for it, how this normality field is defined and who defines it is up for grabs.


LCO: It's interesting that you spoke about the couch you used for Entropy Wrangler Cloud and the idea of establishing "comfortable normality" because the Rift is such an enveloping experience that overtakes much of your real-world sensory awareness. Would Entropy Wrangler Cloud lose something essential if it were made widely available for Oculus Rift owners to download and interact with in their homes instead of within your particular installation?

IC: No, not in terms of experience of the actual work. The installation at Frieze was specific to setting the scene and luring one into the experience of the work within the context of the peak attention crisis one is subject to at an art fair like Frieze. At home, comfort and privacy are not a problem. Although it is fun to think about what the ideal furniture for VR really is and how it smells. Your body primes itself before going blind to its context and it continues to sense even when you are consciously engaged in something else.


LCO: Because of its interactivity (even if that just means putting on the headgear), art that uses VR seems very viewer-centric. While it's a long way off from the experience of a video game protagonist, viewers are still given a certain degree of agency to activate virtual spaces. Would you consider those who experience Entropy Wrangler Cloud "viewers," "players," or something else entirely?

IC: With Entropy Wrangler, people experiencing the work are also influencing the work. They are not players like in video games-- where all the action is designed around the experience of the player -- but more agents or influences. The difference is when no one is using the Rift, Entropy Wrangler the simulation continues on. You are then just dead matter to be played with in the eyes of all the other influencing agents inside the simulation.


LCO: It seems like the Oculus Rift has granted a large number of people access to VR development that hadn't dabbled in the field prior. Do you feel that the Rift provided you with an opportunity to work with VR that wasn't otherwise easily available? Was the technology easy to work with?

IC: Yes, both the cultural and technical conditions of entry into VR were too quarantined for me before. Two years ago there wasn't the same ecosystem of support--Unity, a growing audience for VR experiences, the Oculus itself -- to justify the energy and time cost to work with VR. I'm not an engineer, and I've seen too many artists get absorbed into building a technology from scratch that they lose sight of what really matters. As an artist, I have to create a situation for myself where I cannibalize and setup the tools needed with some sweat and effort, and then play can happen with relative fluidity. Whoever invented the idea of APIs had the potential of creative play in mind.

Monday, May 19, 2014

Recap: Two5six 2014


This past Friday in Brooklyn, New York, Kill Screen hosted its second annual Two5six conference, bringing together minds from the world of video games with outside voices in related fields. The format was similar to last year's event, but in a different location and, unless I missed it, it was not livestreamed. There were talks about sound design, voice acting, and spatial narrative, among others. Kill Screen founder Jamin Warren moderated the entire 8-hour event, and once again showcased his skills as both an interviewer and a facilitator. I always think it's a shame when there's a panel on the stage and each one of them speaks exclusively to the moderator, but this year at Two5six there were more than a few instances of panelists *gasp* talking to one another.


I wouldn't say anything at Two5six 2014 totally bowled me over, but it was a fun, engaging day of on-stage discussions, off-stage chatting, and some pretty delicious doughnuts. I'd like to reiterate my fondness for the speaker pairings both from audience experience and conference design perspectives. In many cases, I was familiar with the "game" people, their games, and what they think about their games, but was almost universally not aware of the speakers they were setup with. This brought new contextual understanding to the games side of things, while also framing games as part of culture with radio, museums, and experimental film. Plus Kill Screen is actually able to leverage some recognizable names as draws to the conference while insuring they aren't just going to be retreading old material. Kill Screen has already begun recapping many of the talks from the conference on their website, so even if you didn't go, there's a chance to see what you missed.


I'm not sure what I really want from conferences anymore except maybe the opportunity to meet people I don't normally talk to, and I was definitely afforded that opportunity at Two5six. On one hand, the speakers almost all stuck around for most of the conference, open to conversation during breaks or for establishing contact at a later date. On the other, I got to hang out with fellow audience members, particularly other freelance writers, in what became an informal sub-convening of our particular niche in the industry. Two5six affords a certain kinship among people who work in and around games, and it's strength is, at least symbolically, forging those connections outside of just interactive software. It might not seem like must-go, must-see kind of conference, but what is? I imagine you'll get different answers depending on what each person was looking to get out of it. From where I'm sitting, Two5six does a pretty bang-up job of doing what it sets out to do.

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Recap: Jeff Gerstmann at NYU Game Center


Earlier tonight (April 9th) NYU Game Center hosted a conversation with long-time video game critic and Giant Bomb co-founder Jeff Gerstmann. During the talk, Gerstmann discussed a wide range of gaming-related topics, covering his involvement in the critical sphere across past, present, and future. One of the main points of emphasis was Giant Bomb's position as a website that covers video games from a personality-driven angle. Gerstmann and company don't discuss every game on their site, and production of actual reviews has dwindled in favor of video "quick looks" where two editors play through part of a game and provide commentary and impressions through voiceover. The website has a friendly, conversational energy that contrasts with Gerstmann's previous work at Gamespot, which he described as a much more solitary, review-focused routine. As a frequent Giant Bomb visitor, and because of that site's transparent tone, a lot of what Gerstmann had to say sounded pretty familiar to me, but hearing it all at once painted a clear picture of where Gerstmann sees himself in the current industry and where things could be headed.

As engaging as the conversation was, there's not a great through-line to easily sum up what was discussed. One of Gerstmann's strongest qualities is his adaptability. In his career, he was unjustly fired from a job at Gamespot, a job that was, more or less, the entirety of his professional experience up to that point. He was then at a crossroads: either figure out some way to continue getting paid to talk about games or start over from square one on some new path. Ultimately, Gerstmann created Giant Bomb, which served as both a fresh restart, but also a way to remain within a familiar field. Being fired was an opportunity of sorts for Gerstmann to reevaluate how he was covering games. The controversy brought him into the public spotlight in a way that had people interested in hearing his side of the story, but not only that; all of a sudden, people didn't just want to know Gerstmann's opinions on video games, but also his point of view on all manner of subjects in the vicinity of game journalism in general. While personality-based game coverage has certainly gained widespread popularity due to a number of factors, Gerstmann's situation positioned him to move ahead of the curve in a way that probably couldn't have existed without the debacle that preceded it.

It's Gerstmann's adaptability that gives him the confidence that he'll make out alright going forward into an uncertain future. This isn't to say that he's completely got the games thing all figured out, but rather that he's put himself in a position where he can be flexible. This, opposed to older, bigger outlets struggling to keep afloat as traditional revenue streams dry up. An audience member at the talk asked about the significance of Twitch and YouTube personalities, and while Gerstmann acknowledged some of the tremendously exciting things happening in those spaces, he also noted the issues with rights-holders looking for a cut of profits, and how this will likely only get worse. In contrast, Giant Bomb is in a unique position where they can dabble in livestreams, in "let's play"-style videos, in news reporting, criticism, and yes, even game reviews without fully committing the ship to any of them. There's a certain level of celebrity status at work, but without the phony sheen that permeates most public figures who perform in front of a camera for a living. Gerstmann has cultivated a following that's genuinely interested in what he thinks about things, not in an image or fictional persona (or at least as much as that's possible on the Internet).

The Q/A segment of the talk was extensive, and more than anything, showed the fondness and respect that people who follow and care about Gerstmann's work have for him. The room was undoubtedly packed with Giant Bomb fans and followers. When asked how many in attendance subscribed to the site, what felt like an overwhelming majority of hands were raised. What do you think about VR? What do you think about sexism in games? What do you think about people who say Proteus isn't a game? What do you think about academic game design programs? Do you have any plans to get back into music production? Many of these questions are only tangentially related to Gerstmann's "job;" they're questions for a guru. And as a clear sign of his adaptability, Gerstmann was able to address all of them. However, there's a chance this amicability could just be an echo-chamber in action. If everyone knows what everyone likes, within a staff, between artist and audience, between game developers and players, then where's the challenge? I went into the talk with a pretty solid understanding of what Jeff Gerstmann thinks about VR, sexism in games, and Proteus, but I learned just how much effort he spends hunting for those challenges. It keeps him up at night, he says, but it also certainly keeps things interesting.

Friday, February 28, 2014

Bonus Feature: Music Game Developer Interviews


On Thursday, Kill Screen published my entry in their weeklong "Future of Genre" series. Mine is about music games, and how they're evolving into and out of their genre label. Check it out.

I'm ever grateful of the musicians and developers who took the time to answer my questions as research for this piece, but you may have noticed that I was only able to quote a little bit from each of them. As you might imagine, these folks had a lot more to say on the subjects at hand, and so I want to share my full text interviews with them, conducted over email. For most of the interviewees, I asked the same crop of questions, but by the time I got around to speaking with Rich Vreeland, I had new questions, so I've separated his Q/A from the rest below. There are some really interesting insights here, especially when comparing how different developers approach the same questions.



LOW CUTOFF: If you had to describe your game for a general audience or assign it to a genre (could be an entirely new category) in as few words as possible, what would you say? Why did you choose that description and why did you include/exclude a reference to music/audio?

Marc Flury (Thumper): We've been calling it a "rhythm-racing" game because elements of those two genres can be found in the game. That's nice and short and seems to work from a marketing perspective, but it's probably not the best way to describe the game. We're trying to do something new rather than hybridize existing games, so genre labels aren't that useful. Our core concept is to take simple step-sequencer patterns, interpret them as audio, 3D space, and movement, and then build gameplay that is intense, physical, and mind-expanding. One might call it "physical rhythm action," but that sounds too much like jazzercise or something. Usually we just tell people it's a game where you're a bug and there's a giant creepy head that wants to kill you.

Brian Gibson (Thumper): No reference to music because I think people might make certain assumptions when they hear the term "music game" that don't apply at all to Thumper.

Samantha Kalman (Sentris): I'd love to just call Sentris a Music game. I can't really do that because the audience associates the term "music game" with games like Rock Band and DDR. Those games are about rhythm and perfect performance. Sentris is explicitly about creating music of your own. So, I call it a musical puzzle game because it differentiates the game from the preconception of music games. At first thought people probably compare it to Lumines, which still isn't ideal. The puzzles in Sentris are all compositional puzzles. I'm trying to not abstract the game mechanics from the act of making music. I'm trying to make them into the same thing. Nobody has really done this before, and I guess I'm facing the problem of invention: how do you describe a thing that is similar but different from everything the audience is already familiar with. I don't know! Maybe by the time the game is done and shipped, then I'll know.

Quynh Nguyen (FRACT): FRACT is a musical exploration game. To be honest, it took us awhile to figure out a good way to describe the game, because it doesn't necessarily fit nicely into already-existing genres. It's not just a puzzle game, or adventure game, or music game. While it does have all of those elements, assigning it to one of those genres doesn't quite capture the experience that we're trying to achieve. FRACT is about exploring a forgotten world, but also about exploring music at the same time - it's part of the same experience. As you explore the world and try to make sense of it, you're also discovering ways to shape sound and make music within that world. And as you continue along, you're given tools to make your own music and invited to explore your own musical creativity. So including a reference to music was definitely necessarily, as it's intrinsic to the game.

Ryan Roth (Starseed Pilgrim): I know we're talking dynamic/generative audio here, but I would still say that Starseed Pilgrim is, at it's core, still a puzzle platformer. I wouldn't classify Starseed Pilgrim as a music game, per se, but it certainly is important to the gameplay in terms of giving the player a reason to continue planting and exploring the world that they are creating. Since the game is sometimes difficult to grasp in terms of what the player should be doing, it's important for the player to have something they can enjoy sonically, that they also feel as though they're creating.


LCO: Is it important to distinguish different kinds of music games from one another (generative vs reactive vs hybrid) or does the general term “music games” serve that purpose just as well? Why?

Marc Flury (Thumper): I'm not interested in splitting semantic hairs, so if it's convenient to call Thumper a "music game," that's fine. But to me, "music game" typically means reactive gameplay built around traditionally structured songs. These games are designed to let the player (re)consume music they already know and like. For a player, playing along with their favorite music can be fun and gratifying, but it's also predictable and assumption reaffirming. In that sense, the term "music game" feels limiting. For Thumper, we don't want the player to feel like they're just playing music. We want the audio, visuals, and gameplay to create a world where the player can get lost and be surprised.

Brian Gibson (Thumper): Whatever describes the game best (with as few words as possible). It seems like over the years art and music genres have branched and subdivided so it makes sense that the same will happen over time with games. Interacting with music should be a core element of any game. In film, a soundtrack is a critical component of storytelling. But people don't consider films with prominent soundtracks musicals. A video game is a little like a film where the player helps tell the story, so ideally the soundtrack is also dynamic and reflects the player's choices. That quality alone shouldn't be what makes a game a "music game."

Samantha Kalman (Sentris): It's kind of a silly situation because pretty much all games have some kind of music in them. Where do you draw the line between "a game that has music" and "a music game?" How much influence on the music do you need to have before you bridge this gap? Even Super Mario World had dynamic music based on whether or not you were riding Yoshi. I would prefer to call out a category of "creative games", where the game mechanics are based around the player creating something explicitly -- not just consuming it. In this way, Sentris has more in common with Draw Something than with Rez. Generally with all other "music games" out there, I would tend to call most of them "rhythm games" instead.

Quynh Nguyen (FRACT): It all comes down to context. If the discussion is about very general categories of games, or the participants in that discussion are completely unfamiliar with that concept or idea of music games, I think the general term can be appropriate. That said, I think more specificity is important if you want to convey a more precise idea about a game or games, especially as more and more diverse sound- and music-oriented games come out. It's just like how musical genres can be pretty broad, but then can also drill down to super precise (you know, like downtempo celtic stoner sludge instru-metal or something like that) terms, depending on who you're talking to.

Ryan Roth (Starseed Pilgrim): I think "music games" to be something more along the lines of Electroplankton where the game could be almost considered an instrument (I actually wrote a piece for the game when it came out in a university composition class, haha). FRACT is another game that's doing a lot of cool things with synths being built in the game. Music and audio that's used as an experience; that creates a mood or generates emotions to enhance or drive gameplay should be viewed as the norm. Dynamic music/audio that drives gameplay situations should be the focal point of a sound designer's ideal for the sonic aspect of a game. I don't think just because you have some interesting generative or dynamic music working in a game, it should be classified as a "music game."


LCO: Do you want players to make music by playing your game? If so, do you want them to be aware that they are making music or is music making just a byproduct of some other form of play?

Marc Flury (Thumper): Having players "make music" is not our goal, although if it's an incidental byproduct of the gameplay, that might be interesting. We want the player's actions to result in compelling audio, but the kind of music that works while you're actively engaged in a fast-paced game is not necessarily going be interesting to listen to outside of that context, like when you're just chilling on the couch.

Brian Gibson (Thumper): The less aware they are of 'making music' the better. We want it to feel more like magic or a vivid dream. The syncopated interactions should seep into the player's subconscious. We want the player interacting with the audio and the visuals in such a way that creates a powerful sense of immersion. The goal is to make the game a potent emotional experience, therefore it's better not to draw attention to how it works.

Samantha Kalman (Sentris): Absolutely, yes! I want everyone to create their own unique music and be acutely aware of it as they do it. The puzzle mechanics are such that the game should still be fun if you have the sound off. But it's a huge goal of mine to make players aware that the puzzles are abstractions of musical concepts. Other elements play into this, like letting the player choose different instruments for any given level.

Quynh Nguyen (FRACT): Ideally, we want both. As we mentioned, FRACT is a process of musical exploration. At first, players might not be entirely conscious of how they're influencing sound and music in the world, but as they continue playing, we do want to them to become more aware of it, and take more ownership of it. The music making is pretty tied to the gameplay, but as they progress through the game, we also give them tools to make music on their own. We're hoping that by tying music making into play, it's more accessible at the beginning - and that hopefully players will get to the point where they feel comfortable creating on their own, outside of the world.

Ryan Roth (Starseed Pilgrim): I certainly think it's cool if people decide to use the seeds to plant something that sounds interesting to them, but this isn't the mechanic of the game, it's more a result of the player exploring the gameplay mechanics. Also, the game really isn't set up to handle the exact things that a player is going to want to hear - the player is just being lead through a dynamic music "path" that they are unable to completely melodically or harmonically control. This is definitely interesting though, since most players aren't musically trained, so giving them a color or shape to their seed, so that they know what instrument they'll be "playing" next. I feel like most players become aware of this and they may even get excited when they come across a certain combination of seeds that will be important for them gameplay wise, but also associate the sonic harmonies with a gameplay strategy as well.


LCO: Do you feel that sound/music design as a component of game design is understood and recognized for its merits by critics and players on a similar level to character design, level design, puzzle design, etc? If not, why do you think this is?

Marc Flury (Thumper): In general, the creative importance of sound/music design in games is overlooked. A big reason for that is that it's often undervalued by game developers. Music tends to be considered late in the development process. It's often outsourced and smeared over existing games like a magic ointment to enhance the mood or "vibe." But I don't think this phenomenon is unique to games. For whatever reason, our culture seems to almost always emphasize the visual over the aural. Looking at Hollywood, for example, the sound design of most mainstream films follow standard conventions and are basically interchangeable. Music is often forgettable by design. That's not necessarily a bad thing. And it means there are lots of opportunities to do interesting things with audio in games.

Brian Gibson (Thumper): It's probably under appreciated because music naturally targets the subconscious and the emotions. A person may get a vivid and emotional feeling from a game, but it might take some work to see concretely how the audio and visual elements worked together to create such an evocative mood. This under appreciation is fine with us though, the gaming experience should be mysterious.

Samantha Kalman (Sentris): I'd say sound design is much better understood by creators than anyone else. Usually sound and music are used to create some emotion in the player. It's usually important for the player to feel the emotion without wondering how or why the sound is driving them toward it. When that's done well, it's effective and transparent. It's a lot more difficult to be transparent in the same way regarding characters, worlds/levels, or puzzles.

Quynh Nguyen (FRACT): The short answer is no. But to expand on that, I feel that music and sound design, like interface design, are hugely underrated in games. Part of it boils down to the fact that if it's well executed, you're not consciously aware of it. Essentially, the better it is, the more it should disappear, while at the same time heightening and reinforcing everything a game has to offer. But as more games put music and sound to the forefront, I'm hoping that this can change people's perceptions of the value of music and sound in games.

Ryan Roth (Starseed Pilgrim): I feel as though there really should be a similar thought process when discussing gameplay, audio and general design. I think that most people feel as though sound design or music composition for games should be thought as in a similar vein to post production for film or television. I think a huge reason that game sound is sometimes not viewed as an important part of a game is that a lot of the people doing audio come from these very static media outlets. Static foley/sound effects or music synced to a specific event in a game should not be how we view game sound. We are not watching a movie. We are not watching a television show or cartoon. We are playing a game, and we have control. Dynamic/layered/generative sound that is being utilized to enhance or drive the gameplay should be the norm, and should be what game sound should be striving to achieve and I don't think that music and audio will be viewed in the same light as the other elements of a game until that is more widely understood by sound designers and composers alike.





LOW CUTOFF: Going off of your recent Coding for Music post, could you speak a bit more on the value you feel can be added to games when the music is generated through code via player actions?

Rich Vreeland (Disasterpeace): I think there is limitless potential in this approach, because it could move the music experience more into the realm of instantaneous intelligent feedback, on a level far more detailed than what is typically possible only using loops, layers and other recording-based techniques. The thought of a complex yet highly curated system that composes music on the fly is akin to having a musical genius, someone like Keith Jarrett for instance, living in your game and improvising music to underscore what is happening. I think a system that could render lots of permutations with meaningful differences, while also managing to sound musical, could really add so much more value to a game. The quality of these systems is really the issue at this point. There have not been many systems of this scope that actually manage to create appropriate music. Generated music tends to be pretty freeform and loose, I suppose because that's the easiest format of music to generate. I think we have all the tools and knowledge to create something far superior than what we've seen to this point. It's just a matter of desire and having the resources to make it happen. I think games where every player's experience is truly unique, are some of the games we tend to cherish the most, because it creates personality, and it gives us a story to tell that no one else can. Games like Spelunky come to mind.


LCO: Is there a distinction that should be made between "sound effects" and "musical sound effects?" How much of this is tied to diegetic / non-diegetic sounds?

Vreeland: Great question. I think it depends who you ask, and it really depends on the context, too. There are a lot of music games that feel as if the sound effects are both diegetic and non-diegetic at the same time ... it's underscoring the emotions and narrative of the experience, but also emanating from sources within the game world. This has become more prevalent lately, and can really add to the experience in an interesting way, by tying the underscore into the actual sources of the world, adding a layer of cohesion. In FEZ we made the sounds for collecting cubes based on musical scales, relative to the current musical underscore. This is not always an appropriate solution though, and sometimes I think that making sound effects too musical can actually confuse the experience, so it has to be done with careful consideration.

It would be pretty interesting to see a game where all of the sound effects that emanate from the world are musical, and the underscore is all sound effects. What would that sound like?


LCO: Do you feel that sound/music design as a component of game design is understood and recognized for its merits by critics and players on a similar level to character design, level design, puzzle design, etc? If not, why do you think this is?

Vreeland: Sometimes yes, sometimes no. I think it's far enough to say that the world has become highly domesticated and in many places our ears have become far less crucial to our survival. I think that has something to do with it, but I also think that while we all manage to have so much in common, we also experience things very differently, and gravitate towards different aspects of a game. I have a friend who never really liked playing video games growing up, he just wanted to watch other people play and listen to the music. Now he writes music for games for a living. I've read countless game reviews where sound is hardly mentioned at all. That being said, it's clear that in some games music or sound was clearly deemed not as important to the experience as other aspects, and that may be apparent when you play it. Sound is a wonderful tool, but it's not one that has to be used every single time, to solve every single problem. Overusing sound can cheapen its impact.


LCO: On the subject of genre, do you feel it's important to draw attention to new and interesting uses of music in games at the genre level, applying labels such as "music games" to titles like Rez or Sound Shapes which visibly implement shooter and platformer mechanics?

Vreeland: I have mixed feelings about genres. I don't look at them anymore, because it's such a common denominator and I've played games in every commonly listed genre and I know what the generic ideas behind all of those mechanics are. That information no longer tells me what I need to know in order to make an informed decision about whether I want to check out that game or not. In one way, music games as a genre is an easy way for folks who are interested in music applications in games to find titles to check out, but on another level it's an easy way for everyone else to straight up overlook all of those games, because of personal experience and bias with other games. I much prefer the idea of curation as a way of finding new content to enjoy. For instance, I generally check out the games that you guys write about, or the recommendations of friends who usually share my taste.


LCO: Lastly, do you have a favorite musical moment from a game?

Vreeland: I'm not sure. The entire experience of playing Journey was quite wonderful, but I remember most of my game experiences holistically, so it's hard for me to pinpoint, but that being said I can definitely recognize when the music is having a significant impact. Playing Chrono Cross as a 14 year old was definitely a landmark moment for me. That was one of the first RPGs I'd ever played, and everything about it was so fresh and inspiring to me. The music was unlike anything I'd ever heard before. Also I would say some really simple things, like the beat that gets added to music in Super Mario World when you hop on Yoshi, or the layers that get added as you progress through a world in Yoshi's Island. In Tecmo Super Bowl for NES and SNES, the background music for home and away teams was different, and you got unique songs in the preseason, regular season, and playoffs. I definitely noticed stuff like that and it felt like a nice little treat.


:top image by Zack Kugler:

Friday, December 20, 2013

Low Cutoff 2013 Round-Up


This will be the last Low Cutoff post in 2013, and what a year it has been. Though Low Cutoff has archived posts that go back a few years, the site itself was launched little more than 12 months ago. With the addition of Blips, I've been publishing stories every weekday (with exceptions, of course), which has been a wonderful practice to maintain that both keeps me on top of current happenings, while also forcing me to write something everyday. Here are some of my favorite posts from 2013:

Unfit For Consumption
Ever-Present: Proteus (Mac) Review
Half-Tucked: Uncharted: Drake's Fortune (PS3) Review
Selfish Superhero: inFamous (PS3) Review
Blips: New Media Literacy
The Remake Impulse
Bonus Feature: Interview with Miasmata Designer, Bob Johnson
Blips: The ____(name) of ____(medium)
Retro Blips: Critical Void
Blips: A Gran ol' Time
Blips: Buyers Market
Blips: Antagonist Gamer
Blips: Press X to Rosebud
Blips: The Artist's Dilemma
Blips: The Ludonarrative Dumpster
Bonus Feature: Interview with Pippin Barr
Development Hell: Crypt Worlds (Mac) Review
Blips: The Age Of Games Is Upon Us
Gotcha!: An ARG Story
Blips: Hidden Fortress
Blips: Indulgence
Blips: Video Games: Legacy: Origins
Blips: Platform Exclusive

Additionally, my work also appeared on a few other sites. Here were my favorite freelance stories from 2013:

How the magic sounds of Proteus are making their way into the real world (Kill Screen)
Completely Hands-On (Unwinnable)
Twilight Crossfade (re/Action)
Inside the videogame version of the Marina Abramovic Institute (Kill Screen)
Real Simulation, False Prophecy (PopMatters)
The Stanley Parable Review: A Review of The Stanley Parable (Kill Screen)
How an artist turned Shadow of the Colossus into a rumination on chance (Kill Screen)
The PlayStation 4: A Review in Four Parts (Kill Screen)
The top 10 worst buzzwords of 2013 (Kill Screen)

As far as actual games go, I don't have a list of 10 games that were released this year, but I will mention a few that I played this year that I really enjoyed:

Miasmata
Proteus
The Stanley Parable
Pac-Man CE DX+
Crypt Worlds
Braid
WipeOut HD Fury
Gran Turismo 6
Money Idol Exchanger
Slave of God
SimCity 2000
World of Glue 

I'll be doing a "best music" list over on the old Gold Skulltulla blog, so keep a lookout for that. Otherwise, see you in 2014!

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Gotcha!: An ARG Story


My investment in this whole horse_ebooks thing was pretty low to begin with. An infamous Twitter bot that spits out spam poetry (that's a freebie, Def Jam) wasn't actually fully automated this whole time. Or maybe it was and was just being carefully curated by a couple humans; the details are fuzzy. Turns out both horse_ebooks and the Pronunciation Book YouTube channel were both being run by Jacob Ballika and Thomas Bender, and the string of cryptic clues emitted recently by both were the lead-up to a browser-based FMV game called Bear Sterns Bravo. As a result, both the Twitter handle and YouTube account will cease further updates.

Oh well.

Perhaps the most important aspect of this whole string of events is the framing of Ballika and Bender's initiatives as art, even staging a gallery show called Bravospam, complete with live performances. You can call (213) 444-0102 and hear Ballika or someone else speak a horse_ebook-ish-ism into a phone. There are a few videos on display too featuring characters from Bear Stearns Bravo staring back at you, as if "waiting to be spoken to," according to the in-gallery text explanation. Additionally, horse_ebooks and Pronunciation Book are referred to as online "installations."

The common thread that supposedly ties the whole thing together was the alternate reality game (ARG) that led up to this grand reveal. Cryptic clues were dropped around the Internet and people read into the patterns of spam being emitted by horse_ebooks looking for clues. The people who pursue hunts like this are intrigued by the mystery, curious to find out what's at the end of the rainbow. In this case, as is the case with just about every other ARG, the pot of gold is an advertizement for an upcoming product. At best these reveals are predictable and don't unfairly inflate players' expectations. Such was the case with the Boards of Canada ARG earlier this year, which everyone knew was being staged by the band and ended in the reveal of a new album, which while not a revolutionary announcement, was something that the ARG players were interested in and kind of saw coming. At worst the ARG culminates in a marketing ploy for something largely disconnected from the game everyone was playing and the point of original interest. Enter Bear Stearns Bravo.

This is a problem for the gallery show as well, which doesn't forge much of a connection between Ballika and Bender's suite of Internet memes and their FMV game about financial regulation, to say nothing of either component's individual value. It hitches onto the label of "art" hoping it will solve this problem and act as the rescue copter, lifting them out of the enraged jungle of followers and subscribers who feel lied to. It doesn't fare all that well as an art show though. Even the title of the exhibition, Bravospam, comes off as a lazy portmanteau of the two distinct concepts. There's no rulebook that states a body of artwork can't have a bifurcated concept, but in the case of Bravospam, it's more of a bait and switch.

And maybe that's the point.

I've played Bear Stearns Bravo, and it's a pretty funny game. If Tim & Eric made an FMV game about the housing crisis of 2007 it would probably look something like this. You play Franco, a government regulator, charged with investigating and taking down financial firm Bear Stearns for their credit default swap practices, among other white collar deceptions. The aesthetic of the game is straight out of the late 80s and early 90s, when FMV games were popular. Everything is shot and rendered in high definition though, unlike the muddly pixels and low resolutions of those old games. Actors ham it up for the camera and knowingly diverge into goofy, nonsensical tangents about their personal lives. Your only control in the game is selecting from dialogue options when questioned. The whole thing takes less than an hour.

The best thing to come out of Bravospam is the all-too-short scene in Bear Stearns Bravo where you encounter Champion and Dynasty, two sleazy, fast-talking debt slingers. They toss glowsticks (mortgages) back and forth and yell into disconnected phones, while justifying their behavior as essential to keeping the worlds systems in motion. It's a great parody of the egos that created the housing bubble and their tenuous relationship with credibility. At one point, you can try and empathize with them by saying that regulators and bankers aren't all that different, but they quickly dismiss your remark and continue shouting into their phones, totally self-absorbed.

The horse-ebooks/Pronunciation Book ARG isn't wholly unlike Champion and Dynasty, both are convincing you to invest in something that appears one way, but yields an unexpected return. And like the real world investment banks that facilitated the global financial crisis, Ballika and Bender have opted for the crash and the spectacle. I understand wanting to move on from silly web jokes that require daily iteration. I wouldn't hold it against Dan Walsh if he stopped doing Garfield Minus Garfield and said, "OK, I'm doing this other thing instead." Surely the appsurfing generation, with their supposed short attention spans, would be able to empathize with the horrors of boredom. This, the same generation that brought us the term "catfishing," too. The goodwill from players was there, but it was exploited instead of shepherded to the next thing.

A second episode of Bear Sterns Bravo is available for $7 from the game's website. It's probably good too, but I have a hard time seeing horse_ebooks fans giving Ballika and Bender any money considering they made a name for themselves through misdirection, and I'm not sure anyone else cares enough to pay attention.

:reposted on Medium Difficulty:

Friday, September 13, 2013

Recap: Ramiro Corbetta at NYU Poly


Last night at an event presented by Babycastles and NYU Poly's Game Innovation Lab, Hokra creator Ramiro Corbetta gave a talk about his thought process behind the game and his personal balance between designing and programming. This was followed by a conversation between Cobetta and NYU Professor Andy Nealen, and some questions from the audience. I'll embed video footage of the entire event once it's posted online (UPDATE: while not the full talk, NYU Poly Game Lab has produced a short video overview of the event).

The general dialogue focused heavily on how Corbetta delved into coding as a result of his frustration as a designer when he'd hand off projects to programmers and then they wouldn't come back exactly as he'd imagined. He explained this through the analogy of designing a sculpture where someone else actually does the chiseling for you. Corbetta got started with coding simply by picking up a how-to book and reading it cover to cover. After that it was all practice, trial and error, and working out problems with colleagues. If you're like me and don't know the differences between programming languages, some of the more entrenched moments between Nealen and Corbetta didn't make much sense, but the big lesson from the talk was still clear: if you're designing a game with action-based mechanics, you should learn how to code because that's where "gamefeel" is constructed.

Corbetta explained why with a simple multiplayer action game like Hokra, traditional game design scaffolding was only getting him so far. A game about passing and shooting a ball lives or dies by its execution, and that falls on the shoulders of the programmer. Hokra wouldn't get a pass on gameplay because of some new innovative design concept –it's 2-on-2 hockey. So, a lot rides on the coding side of things to make sure the game feels snappy and fun to play. As an example of an issue he had to solve through code, Corbetta spoke of a time when he was playtesting the game with some colleagues who felt that the direction that they were passing the ball in the game was not the direction they intended. Turns out this was an issue of timing and how quickly the human brain relays certain conclusions. The solution was to delay setting a direction for the ball for 3 frames after letting go of the "shoot" button, which makes the entire action feel more natural.

I'm consistently impressed by the diversity of talents that indie game makers must employ to achieve their holistic artistic vision. Its a deindustrializing maneuver that takes the tasks that are typically accomplished by separate teams, and sets that responsibility in the lap of one individual. The labor itself becomes something impressive, which sounds more in line with traditional art practice, but runs counter to the outsourcing production methods of many contemporary artists. In this way, indie game devs are sort of the microbreweries of the art world (they have the beards to prove it). While the quality of the final product remains of the utmost importance, the personality and homespun process behind it matter quite a bit too.

I remain extremely excited about the imminent release of Hokra on PS3 as part of the Sportsfriends package and will be curious to see what Corbetta gets up to once it and everything around their Kickstarter campaign is out the door.

Friday, August 30, 2013

Bonus Feature: Interview with Pippin Barr


I love interviewing game makers for features, but a lot of interesting conversation ends up on the cutting room floor for various reasons. If you hadn't seen it yet, I wrote a piece for Kill Screen about indie dev Pippin Barr's collaboration with superstar artist Marina Abramovic for her now-successful Kickstarter campaign to construct and open a physical space for the Marina Abramovic Institute, dedicated to long-durational artworks. Barr is making several game adaptations of both the proposed building and past Abramovic performances and I spoke with him about games, performance art, humor, and working with Abramovic. I'm presenting my conversation with Pippin Barr in full below.

Barr is most known for his humorous, often satirical games, particularly The Artist is Present, a game version of the Marina Abramovic exhibition of the same name from a couple years ago. He's also parodied the Humble Indie Bundle with his own Mumble Indie Bungle, offering a pay-what-you-want purchase model and games like Carp Life and World of Glue. Barr's output is more than just a bunch of jokes (though he does procedural comedy better than anyone), as the satirical irony often pushes into reflections on the nature of institutions and ritual behaviors.

OK, enough preamble. Here's the interview.



LOW CUTOFF: For a long while now, it feels like there's the art world and the game world and never the twain shall meet, but projects like your collaboration with Marina Abramovic can be seen as directly challenging that notion. Where do you feel like your work fits in this continuum of games and art? Do you see the two as having different audiences? 

Pippin Barr: The "art versus games" thing has been going on for a good long while now. There are so many strands to it, and I certainly don't feel all that qualified to talk about it in general. My usual response is something along the lines of games as a medium clearly being capable of yield "art", whether or not we think of the things that have been made so far as artworks. And further that games are, of course, not obliged to be art or like art. So much of what we mean by art is tied up in institutions and processes and procedures associated with the art world –showing in galleries, being commented on by art critics, etc. etc. etc. The culture of the art world.

As to my own work, it's hard to say. I've never explicitly positioned myself as an artist making games, but I have of course played around with the idea of it, most explicitly in Art Game. I've had various of my games shown in exhibitions at galleries around the world, which technically means I must be an artist in the art-world cultural sense, or at least acknowledged as one. But it doesn't feel like that affects me personally in terms of how I proceed with making games (I may be wrong on this). My practice (to use an art world term) has simply been to have an idea and make it. Of course, that corresponds fairly well to what artists might say they do anyway, so the whole thing is rather blurry!

Collaborating with Marina Abramovic definitely takes it to another level of art-worldness. What I appreciate most about the collaboration, though, is Marina's willingness to let it be as much about games and what they are and do as it is about performance art or art generally. That's meant spending time thinking about the intersections of the two, and how performance art and Marina's take on it might "look" in the world of a game. That's been quite rewarding.

As to audiences, I'm not always sure who the audience for my games is. First and foremost, it's me, of course, finding it funny or wanting a particular type of game to exist. Ideally I'd like anyone to play them, I generally try to make them as accessible as I can in terms of controls and instructions, and I have my parents, who are decidedly not gamers, test them, to make sure things should make sense. Again, I don't see the games as specifically speaking to an "art audience" per se. If anything, I suppose some of the games do reference other games and game culture enough that they're more fully understandable by people with a gaming background.


LCO: On games and art, I agree with you about the blurry distinctions between art and game objects, but the worlds, that is the markets, press, and enthusiast and academic communities, for the most part seem to pay little attention to one another. Yet in small bits here and there, gallery shows with games, game designers employing more studio art methods of practice, there is some convergence. Do you think this middle ground will become something larger than the niche between worlds it currently occupies? 

PB: I think it's probably inevitable, right? If nothing else, people who've grown up with games are going to be more and more likely to be comfortable positioning (some of) them as artworks they might see in a museum or gallery context. And meanwhile I think a lot of the "smaller" (e.g. not the Smithsonian, not MoMA) galleries are working through the ins and outs of actually displaying video games in a way that complements their nature (most obviously interactivity). It certainly feels to me like it's a happily expanding part of the art world. 


LCO: Many of your games, even when dealing with more serious subjects, are quite humorous. Though Marina Abramovic has certainly incorporated humor in her work at times, she and the high art world in general are often viewed from the outside as direly self-serious, if not esoterically so. How do you see humor functioning in the games you're working on for the MAI project? 

PB: Yes, this is one of the revelations of actually meeting with Marina. I had, like most people I suppose, expected her to be kind of severe or detached or... something. But in fact she's very warm, excited, funny. The humorous aspect of my games (and particularly The Artist is Present) was a big part of what had attracted her to them in the first place, and she certainly sees room within performance art and the institute itself for humour.

It's a fine line, though. I'm making a game version of the Marina Abramovic Institute, for instance. Now of course I want there to be humorous elements to be in there, as is my inclination, but it can't be too funny or it will detract from trying to communicate something genuine about the exercises people will practice in the institute. So the process of designing/building the game has been a kind of negotiation of what feels funny in the right spirit and what might push across into parody, for example.

Another side of this is that I do keep meaning to make a game or two that aren't about comedy or humorous takes on subjects. So I'm seeing some of the other exercise games as something of an opportunity to tackle a different style as well.


LCO: Humor in the MAI games sounds like an even trickier challenge the just personal humor in games in general, where it's rare enough to begin with. Adapting something like "Complaining to a Tree" already sort of sounds like a kind of satire just by the title. How do you see using a non-pixel art drawing style as playing into this, if at all? 

PB: Yes, the humour thing is tricky. I really do prefer games to have a sense of humour, but humour can turn into or be interpreted as a kind of parody or mockery rather than adding lightness and curiosity to an experience. One good thing about the sorts of exercises Marina's interested in, though, is that they're really much more about what you bring to them - they're not inherently deadly serious or ridiculous, it's about the stance of the person experiencing them. I think that's a great perspective to take, and a good one to bring across into games more and more too. As such, while something called "Complaining to a tree", which is literally about complaining to a tree, might seem ridiculous to people, it's entirely possible, I think, to commit to or accept the experience and really get something out of it. A great thing about a digital/game version is that it's even easier to try it out without the "risk" of feeling embarrassed by talking to a real tree.


LCO: It would seem that video games and performance art have many things in common. Would you say that video game players are performers, or is there a distinction to be made there?  

PB: Absolutely. That's been one of the more fun things about making the games, working through the connections between performance art and games and players. I don't necessarily think that video games are necessarily always performers (in the sense of art), but I think that a game can probably be made in such a way as to push the nature of play toward performance. In the case of the project with Marina, the emphasis is less on "performance" for the player/audience and more on an experience of reality, or ways of being in the moment, so that tension isn't such a bit thing for these games.

But yes, I like the idea of players taking the mantle of performance more seriously, or rather being allowed to do so, to have it facilitated. That was definitely the core motivator of Art Game for instance –not for me to make a specific experience for the player to go through, but rather for the player to take over and enact their own artistic talents in the world of the game and to take ownership of it. 


LCO: Do you enjoy going to art galleries and museums? Do you think these are good places to show games or do you think the inclusion of more games in such spaces would necessitate some sort of change in the way those institutions function? The MAI project seems like it could be an interesting take on an exhibition space for interactive or long-duration works like games. 

PB: I do like galleries and museums personally –saw a great Lichtenstein retrospective at the Pompidou in Paris, for instance. I haven't seen many exhibitions that touch on games though. I remember a show in Amsterdam, but that was essentially video-art based on games. And I was involved in a show in Copenhagen that displayed games, many or even most of them playable. It seemed to work pretty well actually. It traded successfully on the pleasures of watching play as well as playing.

I don't know if games would require museums/galleries to change in some sort of fundamental way, but there needs to be continued effort to allow people to play games in the spaces. And I suspect that the kinds of games that will "make sense" in museum/gallery contexts will be kind of specific too, or their creators might need to be aware of the context and make the game accordingly... or something. Certainly approaching a game in a gallery space isn't the same thing as playing on your phone or on your couch, and it's not like that's going to change.

MAI is intriguing, I agree. I don't have a great fix on how games/interactive work might actually feature at the institute as of yet, but I'm certainly hoping to have some input! 


LCO: So, Marina Abramovic is one of the biggest, most visible names in contemporary art. What was going through your mind when she initially got in touch with you? 

PB: It really was quite a shock to see an email in my inbox with the "from:" field reading "Marina Abramovic". The subject line was, appropriately enough, "Hello from Marina Abramović". Pretty great. I didn't completely believe it was genuine to be honest. I kind of felt like it was the sort of thing various of my friends might do as a joke, and of course it's not hard to fake email addresses and so on. So I took it with a grain of salt, I suppose, but also responded quite wholeheartedly in the hope that it was real... which it turned out to be. When I was finally sitting face to face with Marina over Skype, well, that was surreal. 


LCO: Was she interested in working with you on the MAI project right away or did that come later? 

PB: Some kind of collaboration was really on the table from the beginning. She'd played The Artist is Present pretty much when it came out two years ago and liked it (and even spoke about it sometimes at speaking engagements), but hadn't contacted me. I guess that with the institute and its emphasis on different routes into thinking about performance, awareness, science, technology etc., it seemed like the time to actually get in touch and try something. 


LCO: How do you like being a part of a Kickstarter campaign? Has the crowd funding format forced you to change your process at all? 

PB: It seems fine to me, but I really feel like I have total autonomy and that I don't necessarily have a great deal of "ownership" over the Kickstarter itself. I want it to succeed of course (that's why I'm participating), but I don't feel pressure concerning whether I'm part of the make-or-breakness of it, and certainly not that the backers might be disappointed by my games. I don't think they will be, but it's also the case that particularly in more of an "art context" like this it's not the case that you have the same level of consumerist desire and entitlement concerning the rewards, I suppose. 


LCO: Since the sky's the limit, it seems, on scoring collaborations with superstars (you're in the company of Jay Z and Lady Gaga now), any other artists or game devs you'd love to work with? 

PB: Hah! Yeah, I don't know. It's definitely been an interesting experience, and it's led to some very fun source material for games. If Jay Z comes knocking I might be able to be convinced to collaborate...