Research Methods -Thesis Prehistory and Imaginary Media
Researching the media history and lineage of videogames has been both a frustrating and enlightening process. It is rather simple to trace the roots of the modern videogame, as most of it has occurred during an age where proper cataloguing of history is somewhat prevalent. The real issue, however, comes to light when tracing the medium’s spiritual and artistic roots. The original videogames had a distinct lack of any intentional aesthetic or message and came down to cheap imitations of games played in physical spaces. A perfect example of this would be Pong, a very simple game that was a small collection of moving pixels given meaning and informed by the game ping-pong, or table tennis. However, when one looks at the current state of videogames, this isn’t the case at all. Indeed, an entire aesthetic in art has sprung up around the 8-bit era of computing and videogaming. I believe that the reason for this is the eventual unification of the ideas behind many different artistic media within the medium or videogames.
The evolution of videogames definitely didn’t happen overnight. It took several years for the medium to become what it is today. Modern videogames show more promise and innovation than many other forms of art in the last few decades, and the triple-A titles look like explosive high-budget Hollywood films, which is a far cry from Pong. It is difficult to pinpoint any one source that is the cause of this, or even follow the growth of the medium from an artistic standpoint because the concept of videogames even having artistic merit is something that hasn’t begun to be discussed until very recently. Thusly, much of the evolution of videogames I will discuss will be fairly anecdotal, and mainly consist of hypotheses and postulation as opposed to well-documented academic discourse. That said, looking at the imaginary media that forms the heritage of videogames can go a long way towards describing why videogames have been moving in the direction they are as well as predicting where they may end up in the coming years.
What we now call a “videogame”, and the ideas attached to videogames have traditionally been tied to science fiction and virtual worlds. Since philosophers began playing with the idea that our senses could be deceiving us, or that we live in some kind of altered reality, human civilization has imagined a world where virtual experiences and sensations are so convincing or complete that they are indistinguishable from real experiences. From Star Trek’s holodeck to The Matrix and a wide variety of other fiction books throughout history, the virtual world has become a very prevalent part of our culture. This, of course, has gone both ways. Many science fiction novels view this as a distinctly dystopian invention, divorcing humanity from the things that matter like life, empathy, reproduction, love, etc. However, the concept of the virtual world bettering life or providing insight into history or other specific issues is an equally prevalent trope.
Regardless of whether or not these virtual worlds are positive or negative for the fate of humanity, it is undeniable that the current videogame culture is a nod to these virtual realities. As the technology and processing power available to videogaming systems and personal computers expands, there is always a trend in the game development community to make a game that is as realistic as possible. There have always been several attempts every year to create the most immersive gaming environment possible. This trend is definitely rooted in the theoretical virtual worlds of science fiction. This is also a driving force behind why videogames always seem to expand to fit their processing constraints and are thusly the most system intensive applications available; they simply aren’t as good as reality yet. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, however, as much of the amazing content that has come from videogames isn’t a product of a push towards reality, but an acknowledgement that reality is not always perfect.
Fiction and narrative has long been a way to play with reality and similarly to place someone “in the shoes of another” as it were. It was probably when narrative and story were introduced into videogames that they began to evolve into something far more than simple games. Soon, straining against the confines of the comparatively primitive computing power of their time, videogames had to develop narrative and story to become more interesting. Much like books, they used graphics to represent their heroes and villains (as opposed to directly representing them with realistic art and so forth), allowing the player to flesh out the games with their imagination to some degree.
As more processing power became available to videogames, they began to imitate other forms and genres of art, specifically those found in films. It was a natural choice for videogames to become more like film due to the increasingly visual nature of the medium. This is when we began to see the trend moving towards the current state of videogames, specifically their emulation of cinema. Increasingly, games have been utilizing the techniques used in cinema such as dramatic cuts, pans, and musical cues as well as adopting the cutscene as an integral part of the videogame experience. Many developers have played with the idea of taking control away from the player not only as a cinematic technique, but to enhance the experience, such as in Bioshock.
As we see with the rather large body of research around the “uncanny valley,” until virtual characters and worlds are approaching one hundred percent accuracy when compared to the physical world, people experience a disassociation, a withdrawal and detachment from the virtual object in question. However, this is not as significant when the virtual worlds or objects are more representational. I believe this is the reason for the strong attachment to 8-bit and 16-bit aesthetics in art and videogames. This marks another very important point of maturation for videogames, as well. As developers seek to work within the confines of processing limitations, they have begun to adopt more abstract art styles for their games. The result is a growing number of videogames that borrow from many popular art styles, the most popular being the graphic novel or cartoon aesthetic known as “cel shading.” Other games have produced art similar to that seen in impressionist and surrealist paintings as well.
Due to this very wide range of influences, videogames have a very rich pre-history. Unfortunately, videogames have incorporated parts of virtually every art form that currently exists. This is why I find them so fascinating, however. Videogames have the potential to be the most complete and immersive form of art yet, as they are essentially the sum of all art forms and still manage to be greater than the sum of their parts. While painters, musicians, and cinematographers have long tried to evoke certain emotions in those experiencing the work, videogames have to potential to make the viewer (or player as it were) actually experience something that can cause an emotional response or even change the way someone views a certain issue. A fantastic example is Jason Rohrer’s Passage. This game relies heavily on the 8-bit aesthetic in that the characters and world are largely representational. The music is also expertly crafted to be suitably melancholy. It is difficult to explain why the game itself is so moving, and I feel simply explaining it doesn’t do it justice. In many ways, Passage must be experienced to be truly understood, and that is something I find very admirable.
One of the most profound moments I experienced while playing Passage, came on my second playthrough. To explain the game quickly, you move right, with or without a partner, you can look for treasure if you want, but eventually and unavoidably, you die. The game’s stance as an allegory for life was readily apparent. It wasn’t until my second playthrough, however, that I chose to avoid the partner in the beginning. By doing so, I was able to explore far more of the game and fit into places I never would have been able to if my partner was with me. Upon dying the second time, I felt strangely unfulfilled and sad. At that point I applied what I had learned about the game to life at large and felt truly awed by the statement such a simple game was able to make. Moments like these are what differentiate games from the games of yesteryear and place them comfortably as artistic works. Thusly, recreating these moments will be what my research is primarily based upon. Passage was able to do this with a traditional user interface and a traditional videogame aesthetic. What can be accomplished with more modern aesthetics? Is it possible to make a more profound and immersive game without using traditional interfaces like keyboards and controllers? What are the best ways to go about doing this? These are all questions I will be asking and hopefully answering as I continue my research into the topic. It is my hope that this type of inquiry will draw attention to the scholarly and artistic potential that videogames have.