Showing posts with label nyu game center. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nyu game center. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Blips: New York's Finest
Source: The NYU MFA Showcase was not your average student art show
Author: Dan Solberg
Site: Kill Screen
Just putting out a bit of self promotion here: I covered the recent NYU Game Center Student Showcase for Kill Screen, and I got to play a ton of inspiring games and talk to some cool people. It was my first MFA games show, and it was pretty fun. I'd definitely attend another.
Anyway, so I ended up leaving some of my personal experience with NYU Game Center out of the article because it wasn't the proper tone, but part of the meaning behind that opening line about a lot changing in two years is that it's also the length of time I've been living in New York City. My time learning my way around the boroughs and trying to build up some kind of games coverage portfolio ran parallel with the the Game Center's debut MFA class that just graduated. Throughout the past two years, I've attended a bunch of video game events (many of them Game Center related), held all over the city, and actually got a feel for what a cultural community around games can feel like. I came here for art, but what I ended up getting the most out of NYC was games, and I think that's a testament to the openness and inclusivity at work in New York's gaming scene. Not to say that video games in NYC is a homogenous entity, but there are definitely common threads.
Now I'm getting ready to leave town, head back to the Midwest and teach art. Having spent two years in New York immersed in games, and the 2.5 years prior in DC working in informal education, I've never felt more prepared to enter the austere world of collegiate art education and try my best to offer an alternative experience to my students. When I came out of art school, I hoped, like many of my classmates, that I could find work doing something, anything that was remotely connected to art, knowing that being a full-time artist is just not in the cards. I feel tremendously lucky in this regard (despite my inability to land an art museum job in NYC, though I've interviewed at most of them) that the experiences I've had have led me to be so uniquely prepared for my position this Fall. I've spent a lot my time in NYC cursing this place, but the gaming community here was always a bright spot, and it made my stay here something I truly value.
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.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Blips: New Media Literacy
Source: Fuck Videogames
Author: Darius Kazemi
Last week, web/interactivity artist Darius Kazemi shared a slide presentation wherein he rallies against the idea of games as the new go-to medium for creative expression. He says that just because games possess qualities that books, welding, and baking don't, that doesn't make them more capable of conveying ideas. Some expression is better suited to one form than another, and I happen to think he's quite right.
More and more it sounds like expressive game design is merging with interdisciplinary art practice. That's the impression I got from Bennett Foddy's (QWOP, Get On Top) lecture at NYU Game Center last year as well. If there's an idea you'd like to externalize, it's worth channeling it through the medium that suits it best. This can even refer to media that you've never used before, but the more options available in your "tool belt," to use Kazemi's term, the better chance you have of creating a successful match.
While it's encouraging to see an institution like NYU Game Center build an MFA program in Game Design, pushing the creative process of game development to the forefront, many studio art MFA programs across the US have already turned interdisciplinary and do not require students to select a medium of focus. This was a big factor for me when I was grad school shopping since I didn't want to enroll in a program where I had to lock myself in as a painter or photographer, largely only associating with people who also specialize in that medium. NYU Game Center has the right idea though, and even if their MFA stays games-only, it would be great to see non-game design students given a chance to cross-pollinate in the program.
If nothing else, I took Kazemi's presentation as a plea to disregard loyalty to any medium. Don't let the label on your Twitter bio hold you back from experimenting with different forms. Expressive mediums aren't people; game design won't be jealous if you take up creative writing periodically. Simply give your creative expression the platform that will make it resonate most powerfully.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Recap: Chris Melissinos at NYU Game Center
The term "enthusiast" gets thrown around a bit when talking about people who write, discuss, and make videos about video games. Chris Melissinos does not work in the gaming press, but he may be the truest form of video game enthusiast that I've encountered. The man, a guest curator for the Smithsonian Institution's The Art of Video Games exhibition, loves games, and the excitement and optimism he has for the medium is palpable. A couple weeks back, Melissinos gave a lecture at NYU Game Center on the rise of video games as a cultural power and a postmortem on the Smithsonian show. Full video of the talk and Q/A is embedded below.
Chris covered a lot of territory, but one aspect he returned to a few times was games as a part of youth culture. He recounted his own first experiences with games and the magic of programming, even from an early age. He referred to the generation of kids that brought video game consoles into the home environment in the 70s and early 80s as "bit babies." According to Melissinos, bit babes were largely misunderstood by older generations that didn't play video games and were mystified by this emerging medium that had seemingly hypnotized young people. The situation has changed now that bit babies have grown up and many have children of their own. Melissinos admitted he and his family play games almost every day, and is elated to see his kids discover facets of games that resonate strongly with them.
In Melissinos' section about The Art of Video Games, he again touched upon the powerful impression that games leave on youth. He observed the ways that families navigated in the exhibition. Children often lead the way at the beginning, powered by the excitement of seeing games that they recognize and may even own on display in a museum. Remember, these are kids that are more or less growing up without physical arcades to frequent, so having a real space for video games is a kind of novelty in itself. Eventually families would reach the room with the historic timeline of game consoles, and here the parents are reminded of the games they used to play. They point out titles on decades-old systems and explain them to their kids. The parents may not have played Pitfall! or Missile Command in over 20 years, but the photographic recollection of how mechanics work and tales about their social interactions with games often came to the surface.
Many of the video games that I remember from my youth (a child of the NES) may not have been aspiring to be viewed as artworks, they were just fun to play. Melissinos noted that while social betterment and self-reflection are worthwhile pursuits for games, we shouldn't discount those games that simply set out to provide joy for the player. He goes on that when a game is able to make you smile, or pleased with what you have accomplished, that sometimes that's enough. Makes me wonder what I'd think of games like Bubble Bobble or Marble Madness if they debuted in 2013.
Chris Melissinos' The Art of Video Games exhibition is currently on view at Seattle's EMP Museum. To read my thoughts on the show, check out my review from last March.
:top image by Dave Edstrom:
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Recap: Bennett Foddy at NYU Game Center
Last night at NYU Game Center, indie developer and ex-Cut Copy bassist Bennett Foddy gave a presentation wherein he detailed several core principles he strives for when creating games. If somehow you've never played any of Foddy's games, do yourself a favor and head over to his website where you can play them all for free. Foddy is most known for QWOP, the game where you use four keyboard buttons in rhythm to propel an Oympic runner 100 meters. Or at least that's the premise. You'll probably spend most of your time banging the runner's head against the ground trying to take your first step. The results are quite hilarious as limbs fly all over the place, but there's always a modicum of understanding that you're figuring out how the system works and could maybe, actually get the runner to, well, run.
QWOP has gained a high enough profile to be visible in mainstream pop culture (making a cameo in this year's season premiere of NBC's The Office, for one), but Foddy's other games operate in similar fashion, enlightening players of the physical actions needed to control the characters in the games. The immediacy of these games, one of the subjects Foddy's lecture focused on, allows for even a simple button press to result in a satisfying in-game consequence. In CLOP, a QWOP-like game with a unicorn, each of the four control buttons kicks out one of the unicorn's corresponding four legs. The animation of even one leg kicking out is so unlike anything that a real horse would do that I can't help but crack up at the mere sight of it, not to mention once you really get the beast "going." I found it interesting that Foddy didn't directly mention humor in his discussion, since I find it to be part of the prominent appeal of his titles.
Foddy's outlook on game design shares much in common with contemporary art practice, conjuring the notion that there is a rich middleground between the two that takes into account player interactivity and artistic practice in corollary measure. In games, designers have to choose their controller/platform. In art, artists select their medium, which for the past half century could acceptably be pretty much anything. Only recently have game designers been fiddling with new ways of using traditional and standardized controllers in new and exciting ways (see Johan Sebastian Joust). Yet, art has often struggled to stretch out of the austere, institutional art/viewer relationship by limiting patrons to actions like "standing," "looking," and "walking around," A game/artwork that bridges the gap between the two would likely also confront these issues from both sides. Foddy seems to be on this track as he's been hanging out with some of the JS Joust creators, developing some kind of trampoline-powered Move controller game.
The principles Foddy presented weren't without their own self-conflict though, making them more aspirations than hard and fast rules. For example, if a designer is creating a game that asks players to hold DualShock controllers backwards, a prompt to inform them of how this is supposed to work might be needed, but that would sacrifice some degree of immediacy. A minor criticism of Journey was that an outline of a controller with some arrows is displayed at the beginning of the game to let players know that they can tilt the controller to rotate the camera. The necessity of these sorts of prompts is debatable; the point being that there is no one correct solution. However, I think Foddy would argue that it's best to attempt the game that adheres to principles of immediacy and fully-integrated worlds, and only make concessions when there don't seem to be any better options.
Foddy came off as a game designer on the bleeding edge of the medium, in terms of his games as well as his production practice. He said that he hopes to show the trampoline game at Indiecade, so keep an eye out for that. In the meantime you can always try and get to the top of this wall. Um, good luck?
Photo by Finn Taylor for Wired
QWOP has gained a high enough profile to be visible in mainstream pop culture (making a cameo in this year's season premiere of NBC's The Office, for one), but Foddy's other games operate in similar fashion, enlightening players of the physical actions needed to control the characters in the games. The immediacy of these games, one of the subjects Foddy's lecture focused on, allows for even a simple button press to result in a satisfying in-game consequence. In CLOP, a QWOP-like game with a unicorn, each of the four control buttons kicks out one of the unicorn's corresponding four legs. The animation of even one leg kicking out is so unlike anything that a real horse would do that I can't help but crack up at the mere sight of it, not to mention once you really get the beast "going." I found it interesting that Foddy didn't directly mention humor in his discussion, since I find it to be part of the prominent appeal of his titles.
Foddy's outlook on game design shares much in common with contemporary art practice, conjuring the notion that there is a rich middleground between the two that takes into account player interactivity and artistic practice in corollary measure. In games, designers have to choose their controller/platform. In art, artists select their medium, which for the past half century could acceptably be pretty much anything. Only recently have game designers been fiddling with new ways of using traditional and standardized controllers in new and exciting ways (see Johan Sebastian Joust). Yet, art has often struggled to stretch out of the austere, institutional art/viewer relationship by limiting patrons to actions like "standing," "looking," and "walking around," A game/artwork that bridges the gap between the two would likely also confront these issues from both sides. Foddy seems to be on this track as he's been hanging out with some of the JS Joust creators, developing some kind of trampoline-powered Move controller game.
The principles Foddy presented weren't without their own self-conflict though, making them more aspirations than hard and fast rules. For example, if a designer is creating a game that asks players to hold DualShock controllers backwards, a prompt to inform them of how this is supposed to work might be needed, but that would sacrifice some degree of immediacy. A minor criticism of Journey was that an outline of a controller with some arrows is displayed at the beginning of the game to let players know that they can tilt the controller to rotate the camera. The necessity of these sorts of prompts is debatable; the point being that there is no one correct solution. However, I think Foddy would argue that it's best to attempt the game that adheres to principles of immediacy and fully-integrated worlds, and only make concessions when there don't seem to be any better options.
Foddy came off as a game designer on the bleeding edge of the medium, in terms of his games as well as his production practice. He said that he hopes to show the trampoline game at Indiecade, so keep an eye out for that. In the meantime you can always try and get to the top of this wall. Um, good luck?
Photo by Finn Taylor for Wired
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