Showing posts with label game design. Show all posts
Showing posts with label game design. Show all posts

Monday, September 29, 2014

Blips: Historically Low-Poly


Source: A Comprehensive History of Low-Poly Art, Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3
Author: Tim Schneider
Site: Kill Screen

If you haven't had the time to read through Tim Schneider's extensive treatise on low-poly art, I'd like to humbly suggest that you carve out some time to do so. It's a 3-part essay, but reads like one long piece broken into three sections, so I'd recommend taking in as much as you can in one go as possible. Schneider's main thesis here is the exploration of why so many contemporary game makers are opting for the low-poly art style, and the answer in most all cases comes down to emotional resonance. Low-poly art, like the bear shown above, doesn't try to exactly replicate real world objects, but reveals the material of its making while also leaving gaps for viewers to fill in. Schneider relates these artistic moves to Modernist painters, who when faced with extinction at the hands of the photograph, took a turn toward painterly-ness as expressiveness.

Schneider references so many great examples from the contemporary games space and from Modernist painting, and really captures the thinking behind these methods now while grounding them historically. Still, my mind kept wandering toward the actual construction process of low-poly art which has the most in common with sculpture, a medium that goes unmentioned in the article. When I look at the low-poly bear at the top of this post, I think of the subtractive processes of whittling. The flat surfaces mimicking the cuts made by a handheld blade given quick, gestural strokes. It's interesting that low-poly art aesthetically looks most similar to wood-carving when the act of 3D modeling more directly relates to wireframe armatures and applying skins on-top of them, a notably additive method of sculpting.

There's probably another whole essay that could be written here juxtaposing low-poly art with sculptural movements, and I actually credit Schneider's work with spurring this line of thinking in myself moreso than me pointing out that something was missing from his own. I can't recommend strongly enough giving the entirety of his essay a read.

Friday, August 8, 2014

Blips: Needs More Metroid


Source: 'Troid Rage: Why Game Devs Should Watch Alien—and Play Metroid—Again
Author: Maddy Myers
Site: Paste

It's rare that I can side so wholeheartedly with opinions about video games, but Maddy Myers' recent piece for Paste about the state of the metroidvania had me repeatedly exclaiming "yes, exactly this!" multiple times while reading it. Myers (an undisputed Metroid aficionado) lays out the reasons why so many so-called metroidvania games fall short of the titles that originally inspired the hideously titled sub-genre. Real quick note here, but I'm in the camp that thinks this genre should drop the "vania" addendum, as Castlevania: Symphony of the Night was really just a Metroid-like that did some interesting, original things with the formula. OK, but still, there are game like Shadow Complex that rekindled interest in Metroid-like game design, yet miss the core of what made Metroid play the way that it does.

Myers argues this point as well as the way Metroid itself draws inspiration from the Alien films to frame its environments and protagonist in an extremely powerful way. In contrast, Shadow Complex feels positively soulless, full of bland characters, bland levels, bland weapons, and a bland plot. All that's left is the basic mechanical device of an open ended map that requires specific abilities be gained before passing through certain doorways to new areas. And that's a great game design framework to emulate, but it's not enough on its own. Everyone likes to taut Metroid's atmosphere as a defining feature, but for some reason atmosphere (a combination of many factors including character design, animation, difficulty, level design, music, sound, and more) isn't seen as a necessary component of a metroidvania. And that's a shame, because it seems like the knowledge of what made Metroid special is actually being deteriorated by modern metroidvanias. Still waiting for a proper Metroid Prime 2: EchoesVania over here.

Monday, June 2, 2014

Blips: Theatrically Inclined


Source(s): At the gates of Temple Studios: Where gaming and theatre collideThe immersed audience: how theatre is taking its cue from video games
Author(s):Tristan Jakob-Hoff, Thomas McMullan
Site(s): Eurogamer, The Guardian

Starting off the week, here are a couple articles from across the pond that center the Punchdrunk theatre group, whose recent performance, The Drowned Man, is finding common ground within the video game community. As both Jakob-Hoff and McMullan's pieces report, theatre and games actually have quite a bit in common, especially in staging/level design, making crossover function rather naturally. Punchdrunk has been putting on performances with interactive elements for years, and even inspired certain aspects of Gone Home, but The Drowned Man appears to be their most ambitious project to date.

Not only are there interactive components to The Drowned Man, but the performance takes place in a 4-story complex, with actors on different floors performing simultaneously (if I'm understanding the description correctly). So you could be opening a "prop" drawer and reading a note for additional narrative context while a soliloquy takes place above you, and another viewer is selected and pulled into a room next door for a one-on-one performance. It's the sort of show that you can't see the entirety of in just one go. And that's a key difference between working in digital and real world "theatre;" in games the action can be programmed and instanced to always make you the center of attention, and thus able to have every actor wait on your arrival to begin. But I also like the idea in live theatre that the world doesn't revolve around you; in some ways, I find there's more immersive potential in that arrangement.

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Blips: Wave Racing


Source: What is a Racing Game? On Wave Race 64
Author: Zolani Stewart
Site: The Fengxi Box

Ever since I began reading this essay on Wave Race 64 by Zolani Stewart I've been humming the game's title screen music and fondly remembering this gem of a racing game. In fact it's Wave Race 64's status as a racing game that might prevent it from getting more recognition, but as Stewart notes, it's what the game does within the racing genre that makes it excel as much as it does. There is indeed an element of the sublime at work in the way the jet ski's steer around tight corners, the weight of the watercraft digging into the waves. Wave Race 64 is a beautiful game, and even going back to look at it now, I just think it's pretty. Sure the ocean in a game like Assassin's Creed 4 is going to look more realistic, but it's not a competition for realism, and the sum of Wave Race 64's aesthetic decisions is an upbeat, welcoming place.

Stewart gets into some interesting distinctions between "driving" and "racing" games, and I find the unique distinction with Wave Race 64 to be the open water courses. On these "tracks" the only designation about where to go is the preset rules of the game that ask you to slalom between anchored buoys. In some cases this allows for tremendous shortcuts or the sacrificing of an allowable penalty to cut "corners." I never owned Wave Race 64, but I rented it a lot, to the point where if I bought it, there wouldn't have been much left to do other than beating my own records. However, looking back, I do wish I'd have bought the game for its "driving" aspects. That is, sometimes I just have the urge to get back out on those waves, competitively or not.

Friday, May 23, 2014

Blips: Not From Nothing


Source: The isolation of Metroid Prime reflects its hero’s sense of loss
Author: Nick Wanserski
Site: Gameological

I can't pass up a good article about the Metroid Prime games, so here's another one from Nick Wanserski over at Gameological that ties into their "empty spaces" series. If you've played Metroid Prime or even the original Metroid, you'll already know that emptiness and isolation go hand in hand with those games. Metroid has mostly solid black voids for backgrounds, contains no dialogue, or map, and generally leaves you to fend for yourself. The first Prime game drew most heavily from its predecessors, adapting both environments and gameplay into polygonal spaces, with plenty of silent, contemplative voids to boot.

What Wanserski brings to light that I hadn't really considered in depth is Samus' relationship to her surrogate parents, the Chozo, told through discovered texts and glyphs, as illustrative of Samus attempting to fill in an empty space in her personal history. In a sense, Metroid Prime is the story of an adopted daughter, twice orphaned, seeking to learn about those that raised and took care of her. Of course Samus is also an incredible warrior, so she's on an important space business mission too, but the narrative arc of Samus' relationship with the bizarre planet of her surrogate caretakers always stood out to me as the most memorable aspect of that game.

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Blips: Learning Games


Source: Teacher's Lounge: Insider Views on Games Education
Author: James Brightman
Site: Games Industry International

I've been writing and researching games education a bit more than usual, so when I came across this educator roundtable over at Games Industry International, discussing the current state of game studies at the collegiate level, I had to share. Though the discussion moves quickly, what's here is a pretty great broad overview of what's happening in higher education game studies from 5 of the most prominent programs out there right now.

If there's any general consensus, it's that now is a great time to be interested in learning about games. There are more programs out there than there used to be, and those programs have achieved more stabilized status within their institutions. Game studies programs may be growing, but they're not ubiquitous yet, which actually could provide certain benefits. For one, it means the community is a little smaller (compared to, say, the studio art or creative writing MFA fields), which could lead to a more collaborative educational/post-graduation environment. There also seemed to be some agreement on focusing curricula around student-driven design process, which is very similar in concept to an interdisciplinary arts program, but for games. It's worth a read.

:image via Polygon:

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Blips: Defining Doorways


Source: Threshold
Author: Claire Hosking
Site: Claire Hosking

Some really interesting thoughts on how we define "games" from Claire Hosking this week. In a post on her Tumblr page titled "Threshold," she begins by comparing games formalism to art formalism, positing that instead of taking art's approach, that "art" is to a certain degree undefinable, in games, everyone has their own definition of what a game is. While this leads to a nonetheless fractured definition, at the very least it avoids art's elitist mindset of needing to be granted membership into a secret club before being allowed to "get" what art is. Though gaming's gatekeepers could end up similarly halting progress depending on how the lines end up being drawn.

Hosking goes on to then compare this existential debate in games to evolutions in architecture, which in many cases have blurred the lines between "inside" and "outside." In fact, these middleground spaces in architecture are evocative of a similar situation with games where perhaps a game isn't simply inside or outside of an exclusionary criteria, but something that contains various percentages of game-like structures among elements from film, drawing, or any other media. Some would even say this is inherent to games as hybrid structures or logic and expression.

There are many more fascinating ideas in Hosking's full piece, including the consideration that maybe some of the fringe software that gets lumped into the ever-expanding definition of games should actually be thought of as some new category instead. As you might imagine, it's not a simple yes/no answer. My only criticism of Hosking's piece is that when she debunks games as a medium (a really interesting consideration) she's only speaking of video games, referencing the medium of code, instead of considering video games and physical games together. Perhaps physical games can be seen as programs too, just ones with different methods of enforcing rulesets. After reading Hosking's post, I'm extra eager to hear Charles Pratt's formalist defense Thursday at NYU Game Center.

Friday, April 25, 2014

Blips: Islamic Artgames


Source: How Islamic Art Can Influence Game Design
Author: Dave Owen
Site: Kotaku UK

Despite a formal art education, I know very little about Islamic art other than it being aniconic and often spoken of in mathematical contexts. Without illustrative imagery of people or really anything taken directly from nature, line, shape, and pattern become primary tools. The results can be quite breathtaking in their intricacy and beauty, most commonly associated with architectural installations like the dome above. But the principles of Islamic art needn't be confined only to these physical structures; one would assume that an art practice with such an emphasis on geometry would thrive in the digital realm: a world founded on numeric values and algorithms. Turns out, that's the case, and several video games are actually in development right now that draw influence from Islamic art.

In a recent piece for Kotaku UK, Dave Owen speaks to the creators of two such titles, Music of the Spheres and Engare. Both games ask players to conduct close reads with complex patterns and shapes to determine puzzle solutions. Players must look past the dazzling overlaps of lines and angles to follow single paths, which in turn grant an understanding of the structure of the artwork as a whole. And really, these concepts are a natural fit for games, which despite the pervasive penchant for narrative role-play, is also that medium that gave us abstract puzzlers like Tetris. Games don't have the same expectations as movies or books as outlets for human storytelling, they can simply be experiences in and of themselves; story generators as much as tellers.

Friday, April 11, 2014

Blips: Moments of Silence


Source: Myst uses emptiness to calm you; its sequel uses emptiness to provoke you
Author: John Teti
Site: Gameological

This week over at Gameological, John Teti has begun a series of posts about empty spaces in games. He sets up the series by pointing out the disconnect between images of games that depict them as all-out action while the reality is that games allow for many quiet moments as well, often at the player's discretion. Of course there are games that are largely devoid of action, no matter how you play them, and two of those games, Myst and Riven (it's sequel), are the first to go under the microscope. Teti's argument is that while Myst uses emptiness as a way of ensuring that the player doesn't feel pressure to complete puzzles quickly or shame in failure to do so (no one is watching), Riven presents people on the fringes of your view. In Riven, you don't feel extra pressure because there are humans elsewhere on the island, but finding out why they're running away from you serves as a kind of motivation for puzzle solving. I'm excited to see where this series goes next as there are many games that offer moments of silence or emptiness that are often glossed over in favor of more frenzied moments.

While there are certainly a multitude of games that position characters in empty worlds, I hope that pause menus are spoken of at some point too. When I think about menus, I think about RPGs, and how much time I spend navigating them compared to "playing" the game. Whether it's arming characters in Final Fantasy games or navigating deep space in Mass Effect, my time spent in menus has offered me a solitary, introspective space. How do I want to engage in this next scenario? What should I wear? Time collapses in pause menus, and nothing proceeds without you (unless you're playing online, of course). Sometimes the official game clock even halts while you're in menus as well, as if to say that time spent amongst the upgrade paths and equip screens is somehow separate from everything else. In a way, it is separate, but that shouldn't diminish its influence on the tone and pacing of the game as one, whole experience.

Monday, April 7, 2014

Blips: Infinity x Threes!


Source: Meet the Clones
Author: Patrick Klepek
Site: Giant Bomb

The Threes! cloning story has been pretty well documented at this point, but I found Patrick Klepek's report on the issue particularly enlightening. For a quick update on the issue, the super-popular free mobile game 2048 is a clone of another popular mobile game 1024, which itself is a clone of the popular-but-somewhat-less-so mobile game Threes!, which retails for $1.99. All of these games are tile-sliding puzzlers where each tile has a particular number and certain tiles can be combined to create a new tile that is the sum of the two numbers being combined. While some of these games use different number combinations and color pallets from Threes!, the game mechanics are pretty identical, right down to the size of the game board.

What's great about Klepek's piece is how he tracks through the cloning narrative and actually gets the points of view of the accused cloners, where possible. This is an enlightening approach to the subject where it's all to easy to talk about offending parties without them present (note: depending on the issue, sometimes offenders should not be brought to the table, but this is one where there's potential for good to come out of it and minimal chance of increased harm). It's not really a surprise that none of the clone developers see themselves as doing anything wrong as they each have their own explanations for why they made their version of Threes! the way they did, sometimes ignorant that Threes! even exists. Gabriele Cirulli made the web version of 2048 as a copy of 1024, unbeknownst to that games direct lineage to Threes! It's not really a surprise that the creator of the mobile, ad-enabled version of 2048, which is #1 on the App Store declined comment, since his game is the most unabashed clone of the bunch (a carbon copy of Cirulli's take, plus ads), but since Cirulli released 2048 as open source, there's no legal precedent to prevent this from happening.

Hearing these sides of the story serves to inform the public as to how a situation like this could arise in the first place. You can point to the creator of the ad-filled 2048 as the "bad guy" in this situation, but it's a string of events that made his clone possible. The App Store is a place where opportunists can thrive, and in doing so, they'll throw whatever informal inter-developer honor code may exist under the bus to do so. Where "open source" might mean a constructive, creative environment for experimentation for some, it's just free code to others. Whatever ends up happening on the "clone wars" front will be interesting, but I don't expect much in the way of action from Apple or Google. Instead, I think the fallout of this could potentially have a negative effect on open source game development, with studios deciding to be more protective of their source code than before or striving for more complex, less copyable designs. Or at least these were the views expressed by Threes! dev Greg Wolhwend in Klepek's follow-up interview.

Monday, March 10, 2014

Blips: Idle Chatter


Source: Small Talk
Author:Aevee Bee
Site: ZEAL (on Medium)

If you're not following Aevee Bee's ZEAL project, you're missing out on some great games criticism, like this essay on small talk in Deadly Premonition. While many games contain idle chatter, usually it just shows up in fleeting moments to cover load times or fill out a dialogue tree. In Deadly Premonition, you spend a lot of time driving from one location to another, and during that time you also listen to the game's protagonist conversing with his fellow passengers or with himself. There are no decisions for the player to make to alter the direction of the conversation, and the subjects discussed typically have little or nothing to do with the plot points in the game. Mostly it's talk about movies, which clues players in to the film-going preferences of the characters, which again, is not important information to help you beat the game, but it does flesh out the characters and the world they inhabit.

Aevee Bee mentions the elevator conversations in Mass Effect as being of a similar ilk, despite their load screen cover-up status. Having just completed the first Mass Effect game, I'm on board with this, and would have loved to see these personable interactions occur at other times in the game. There's so much dialogue in Mass Effect, but most of it is just Shepard pumping people for information. On the one hand, I get why this is the case, I mean, fail as it does, there's supposed to be a sense of urgency in the game that keeps Shepard's tone militaristic and focused. However, I think it contributed to making the romantic subplot extremely tone-deaf and devoid of real chemistry. Shepard seemed more likely to issue a passport to her love interest than start a free-wheeling fling. If nothing else, I'm curious to see how this aspect of the game changes in subsequent entries in the series.

Thursday, March 6, 2014

Blips: Living Under a Rock


Source: The Rust Diaries: Letting go of structure in video games
Author: Kris Graft
Site: Gamasutra (blog)

This new post by Kris Graft over on Gamasutra has made me significantly more interested in Rust. That said, I doubt I'll get into the game since it seems a bit daunting to go in alone, but my mind has been shifted as it pertains to Rust's status as an Early Access title. Graft reflects, diary-style, on his time with the game and how individual happenings could be viewed as "missing" features in most "complete" games. Where Rust ultimately ends up, if it's even going to be something that's considered "finished," is a mystery, but the point of it, at least for now, seems to be the experience of playing within such an unsure space.

As the saying goes, "it's the journey, not the destination," which is a phrase that seems quite appropriate for Rust. But it's not just the Early Access status of the game that makes the phrase so fitting, but the freeflowing, open ended nature of Rust's world and the constant string of "win some, lose some" confrontations. The game doesn't track your moral decisions or help you find friends; that's entirely up to you and how you choose to play. Also, you could be killed at any moment and lose everything on your person. Material wealth in Rust can make you feel powerful, but also a target, Graft notes. It's Graft's conclusion that really hits home though, which asks "what's it all for?" given how easy it is to lose "progress." Graft's answer is that games never really give you anything tangible, only the hopefully engaging experience of playing them. Perhaps the games that shower players with virtual trinkets and compliments are the game that we should really be scrutinizing, since those games are more about accomplishment than play.

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Blips: Untrue Detective


Source: Out of Focus: Dismantling Detective Mode
Author: Stephen Beirne
Site: Paste

That title might be an easy pun, but I thought it appropriate given the subject of today's post. Stephen Beirne has written a great piece over on Paste (spiffy new site redesign over there too) about how games that use detective modes rob their players of the chance to use their observational skills. While this is certainly true in games with explicit detective modes like Batman: Arkham Asylum, it's a pervasive trend across games of all sorts, done in the name of accessibility, yet often used to circumvent design problems. I'm referring to the gleam that shimmers across objects that you can interact with, which accomplishes a very similar task; it prevents you from fumbling around looking for that narrative-progressing lever, and it heads off potential disappointment in the inability to interact with certain elements of the level architecture because the designer has removed the possibility of their interactivity from the equation.

That said, in Batman's case, I do think there's an argument for detective mode as is, and it's that Batman is just a rich guy with fancy gadgets that do everything for him. Sorry to Batman fans, but as someone who couldn't care less about accurate comic book lore, this is my layman's perception of the Caped Crusader. Why is detective mode sort of a demystifying drag? Well, maybe it's because Batman himself doesn't need to exercise much in the way of observational prowess when his computers can do all the work for him. I see detective mode in the Arkham games as a chance to role play as Batman as he truly is. Overpowered? You bet.

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:

Monday, February 24, 2014

Blips: Against "Rational" Play



Source: Videogames and the Spirit of Capitalism
Author: Paolo Pedercini
Site: Molleindustria

I find that when I speak of the whole of games, I often use the term "video game industry," though it's something I'm trying to extract from my vocabulary except in instances where I'm actually speaking about the industrial aspects of game development and publishing. It's no coincidence that "industry" has become such a go-to term when referencing the sphere of games, when games themselves often reinforce this capitalist mindset. This is one of my primary takeaway's from Paolo Pedercini's talk at Indiecade East 2014. I'd encourage you to give the whole talk a look, either in video or text form (via the "source" link) which elaborates on how games typically stand in support of capitalist ideals through their designs as rationalist pursuits. Rationalization runs counter to what it means to play.

The "game" in gamification is supposed to reference how otherwise normal activities can be turned into games, but it's actually just a meta-game on top of those activities –a means to an end that benefits upper management over the "players." If only gamified experiences actually incorporated video game mechanics, there might be an opportunity to transform them into something more engaging. We do this with our own imaginations when we're bored of something and want to shake things up. However, when the "game" part of gamification is about filling up a progress bar and receiving digital trinkets for doing so, labor itself is commodified and play is all but ignored.

Thursday, February 6, 2014

Blips: Flap Flop


Source: The Squalid Grace of Flappy Bird
Author: Ian Bogost
Site: The Atlantic

Ian Bogost's treatise on mobile game zeitgeist Flappy Bird isn't the only one worth reading (I quite enjoyed Yannick LeJacq's take on the game too), but it is the one that assumes the widest angle on the game, framing it within centuries of gaming history. As Bogost states early on, Flappy Bird is a stupid game. I haven't played it, and yet I'm still comfortable stating that as fact. I've played enough eerily similar endless runners over the years to know a time-killing mechanism when I see one. The game itself is a visually different version of Copter, where you have to continually tap to prove your helicopter or bird with enough lift to avoid obstacles and navigate the gaps in between. Flappy Bird is exactly that, except it doesn't even have the progressive difficulty curve of Copter, it just is what it is.

This is one of Bogost's main points: unlike masocore games that are a hard-swing reaction against the gradual casualization of difficulty in games, Flappy Bird just "is." It's a game that exists outside the conversation, and is seemingly unwilling to join it despite its astounding popularity. Flappy Bird is a game that makes the mundane actions of game playing grotesquely apparent. Where Kinect games often literally show you how dumb you look playing them, Flappy Bird's stupidity shows through in it's very design. There's nothing to the game other than repeatedly tapping on a small glass rectangle. There's no sense of group effort, story progression, or artistic insight. Flappy Bird is a video game stripped of facade, and it's as pure as is is disgusting.

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Blips: A Life More Ordinary


Source: Beauty in the ordinary
Author: Kris Graft
Site: Gamasutra (blog)

I'm loving this post from Kris Graft about the virtues of games that focus on "the ordinary." Graft sets this up by contrasting the views of his Midwestern existence with those of his city-dwelling friends, and vice versa. It's all a matter of perspective of course, and so what one views as an ordinary day means significantly different things depending on setting. Having grown up in the Midwest and now having spent the past 5 years living in east coast cities, these points of contrast are starkly illustrated in my mind. If I change cities again, what will I miss from my previous sense of ordinary, and what what will I be happy to be rid of?

I was likewise drawn to meta-ordinary games like The Stanley Parable last year for their powerful examination of both ordinariness in human existence and ordinariness in gameplay. The literal approach in a game like The Stanley Parable isn't the only way to go about it though, and in fact it's likely a trend that will fizzle out before long (how many obscure simulators can the market realistically support?). Any game world can establish a sense of the ordinary, given the time and space to do so. What do the characters do when they're not embroiled in the craziest thing that's ever happened to them. And no, those quiet comedown moments of fireside chatting in the wake of a tragedy don't count. I want to see when those characters return home and go back to work. What does the extraordinary look like once it reverts back to the ordinary.

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Blips: Show Me the Way


Source: The Cult of the Peacock
Author: Brendan Vance
Site: BrendanVance.com

Don't you hate in-game tutorials? I do, or at least the forced fit-this-training-sequence-into-the-context-of-the-game ones or the stop-the-action-every-5-seconds-to-read-this-instruction ones. It seems like I'm not the only one, and designer Brendan Vance shares an interesting perspective on the subject. He sees a downward trend where design thinking is replacing artistic vision in the service of ever-lowering the barrier to entry for games. Vance misses the days where video games came with manuals. Instruction manuals offloaded all of that contrived, pedantic in-game instruction into a small booklet that could be referenced at will. While it's simple enough as a player to prefer one learning method over another, Vance argues that the obsession with accessibility as part of a game's design takes a disproportionate amount of development effort for what the payoff begets.

To cycle back, players hate these tutorials scenes (note: I'm not talking about training modes here) and often skip over them without even absorbing the information. I see this happen all the time watching videos of people learning to play new games. They button through as fast as they can because they've gotten bored with the instructions, or perhaps they're feeling impatient after sitting through a loading screen, only to find themselves in control and without a clue what they're supposed to do or how to do it. Then it's a matter of searching through menus of logs to try and find what was just said, assuming those logs exist. A manual would solve this problem and designers wouldn't have spent over half of their time attempting to make the tutorial sections to "user-friendly."

To reverse this trend would take some unlearning. As much as I'd welcome a return to manuals, there is a large portion of the gaming population that has never read one, and is not likely to. However, Vance ends his essay with a call for writers to try and pen their own manual for a game they enjoy, as a kind of "close-reading" exercise. I love this idea, and would be interested to see if anyone takes up the charge. As for me, hmm, Proteus would be a fun manual I think...

Thursday, December 5, 2013

Blips: Free 2 Disagree



Source: Game Design: The Medium is the Message
Author: Jonathan Blow
Site: Creative Mornings

This video is a few weeks old, but worth checking out if you missed it the first time around. Game designer Jonathan Blow (Braid, The Witness) breaks down why free-to-play games are a regressive movement away from the medium as one of artistic expression. For the most part, I'm on board here. The convincing analogy Blow sets up is one with hour-long TV dramas in the 70s and 80s. These shows were formed around the commercial breaks and the promise of syndication. Acknowledging that every medium has creative constraints that need to be worked within, these old TV shows felt much more constrained than modern hour-long dramas on cable networks. There are games that do F2P in an ethical way, but regardless, it changes the form that the game takes and the relationship between developer and player.

I'm about to start playing Gran Turismo 6, and have just learned that it contains microtranactions for cars. This has shifted my desire to play the game as one of excitement, to one of "I hope it isn't gross." From what I've seen of Forza this year, I'm not super confident. And that's a real shame. I haven't played a Gran Turismo game since 3, back when I was in high school, and have been greatly anticipated jumping back in with GT6 ever since it was announced for PS3. Having played DiRT 3 earlier this year, I've seen how commercial intrusion can put a damper on what otherwise feels like a pretty fantastic experience. In DiRT 3, you could not earn gold medals on certain events without purchasing additional courses and races. The extra gameplay isn't "extra" when it interferes with what I've already paid for; it creates an artificial gate (made worse by being in a game that costs $60 upfront). I've got my fingers crossed that GT6's microtransactions are truly extra features that will only appeal to people who care way more about cars than I do.

I just hate playing games that feel like the real challenge isn't the puzzles or the enemies, but in figuring out how to get the most satisfaction for the least amount of money. Unfortunately, this is the mentality that F2P perpetuates, and it's very popular.

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Blips: Chess Storm: Reckoning


Source: Chess 2: The Sequel - How a street fightin' man fixed the world's most famous game
Author: Christian Donlan
Site: Eurogamer

I am by no means a "chess player," but some of the changes in Zac Burns' and David Sirlin's Chess 2, a ruleset and upcoming video game, do seem pretty exciting. The reasoning behind their variant is meant to solve what they see as problems in play at the grandmaster level: most matches end in draws and play relies too heavily on memorization. Basically, the highest level players don't seem to be having much fun with the game anymore, and Chess 2 is trying to tactfully shake things up to specifically address those issues. There's a concept of "dueling," which I'm not entirely clear on when it occurs, but it involves a Risk-like battle system where each player reveals a certain number of stones in their hand in a rock-paper-scissors draw, and that highest number wins the duel. The catch is that you only have a certain amount of stones per game, and they're single use, so once you're out, you'll continue to lose duels until your opponent also runs out of stones. This modifier is intended to add an psychological action element to the game that gets you to engage with your actual human opponent, not just their board strategy. It's sort of poker-like in that way.

For me, the most interesting and accessible modifier is the "midline invasion," which is a win condition wherein a player moves their king across the midpoint of the board, ala scoring a touchdown. This rule sounds like it could be a really fun addition since the king's position becomes something you always have to keep in mind, even as you're trying to play the rest of the pieces normally. It reminds me of the snail win condition in Killer Queen too. It's no surprise then that the minds behind Chess 2 have experience balancing rosters in the competitive video game scene. I'm sure there are a billion other ways of modifying chess, but this one caught my eye and seems to make a lot of sense. It's no use getting upset about it either; Chess 2 won't be replacing regular old chess after all, but it could make for a fun alternative.