I quite like this definition of "art" as a starting point but I do have one fundamental qualifier: I think the purpose of art is indeed very practical. Maybe we (like Johnny and James) will be arguing over semantics and/or the definition of "practical". But what I mean is, I think some of the purposes of art are to illuminate or reflect the human condition and to provoke a feeling of "elevation". When I use the term "elevation," I am here pilfering the concept of "elevation" from Roger Ebert. He wrote of "elevation in his blog here:http://blogs.suntimes.com/ebert/2009/01/i_feel_good_i_knew_that_i_woul.html
The irony of stealing an idea from Ebert is not lost on me for it is he who has flamed the fires of the videogames-as-art debate by stating unequivocally and on many occasions that he does not think videogames are art. On that point, he is, in my opinion, simply dead wrong.
Ebert, and others, describe "elevation" as the sensation one gets when we see good people doing good things or things that are "right" (morally speaking, I suppose). These moments can be profoundly sad, but they move us in a specific way. I think this definition of "elevation" is a bit narrower than what I think of as "art." Rather art, to me, speaks to me about what it is to be human and alive. This, to me, includes moments of "elevation" but also moments that remind us of the darkness of humankind. Is it not true, for example, that humans are the only of Earth's creatures that murder, rape, commit crimes of passion and are deliberately cruel? Communicating those aspects of "humanity" is important in art as well. When I experience moments of "art" that reflect or illuminate humanity, I get that tingly feeling that Ebert talks about in his article of "elevation." That's why I've cited it here. I can also get that tingly feeling simply from artistic works that are praised primarily for their beauty and not much else. I am moved by the beauty alone. I think that feeling is specifically human, too.
But back to "practicality". All I am saying is that I think it is eminently practical, necessary even, for humans to seek to illuminate, elevate, touch, whatever, through "art." We all know videogames can and regularly do this. Videogames are art. Its a no-brainer. Maybe not all videogames are "art" but certainly many qualify.
This is quite an Aristotelian way to go about defining art and its purpose, and while I cannot speak with any great deal of certainty on the topic, I would argue that while I can get behind a substantial portion of this definition, there needs to be a distinction drawn between art, and what games typically offer. In other words, if games are not currently considered to be art by a substantial number of people who also happen to see cinema and literature as being art, then the question is less one of semantics. Instead it is a question of what qualities games lack - if any - that would factor into this choice. I don't care to get into Ebert's past comments on the topic of games as art (because it's been done to death, because he's only one voice in a sea, and other factors involving some tiredness on my part), but one of the primary troubles games give critics, in my opinion, is the game's interactivity. Typically art is composed of some form of narrative, to be digested in a linear fashion in the case of a film or a book (by which I mean the story has a set, linear order to be observed from beginning to end, even if the actual narrative takes place out of chronological order). In the case of a painting or similar work of art, critics often attempt to describe and evaluate the way the viewer's eye is drawn, as if it the piece were, to an extent, linear. Obviously this is a problematic approach and games offer even more difficulties in this vein, especially when looking at non-linear games with open environments, when it is not easily predictable what any given player will do. One way of getting across a linear in a non-linear experience that is frequently used is the cutscene. It is my opinion that the cutscene gives critics like Roger Ebert an easy reason to look at games derisively, since a cutscene can be said to acknowledge the inferiority of games by deferring to cinema. An example from cinema is the voiceover, a frequent component of films, even today. Why would I want to go to the cinema, a visual medium, in order to hear a talking book telling me the story? Likewise we saw in the 50s the French Auteurs setting out to move cinema out of its subservient role to literature, by downplaying the role of the screenwriter in favour of the director. In recent years we've seen some games edging away from the cutscene model, a veritable "feature" of the original Half-Life, but ultimately, while admirable, most of the time the game will constrict the player enough to the extent it provides non-interactive cutscenes in which you can do aught but jump around while the dialogue plays out whilst having no effect on the events taking place.
Now, obviously, games have the potential to present a good story to the extent that it should, at the very least, achieve the famous "Oscar-worthy writing" promised by GTA4. I haven't watched any cutscenes from the game (nor played it in fact!) so I couldn't see how ably it managed to reach, or miss, its target. Regardless, if cutscences and dialogue are all games have to offer and the Oscar aim is shared by the remainder of the industry then the medium should be declared dead in the water in my opinion. Ultimately games have to offer more than art-worthy cinematics in order to justify their continued existence. To draw on a game I haven't personally experienced, both Jon on RFN and Garnett Lee spoke highly of the vaguely interactive cutscenes in Metal Gear Solid 4. I particularly liked the sound of one part of the game which involved button mashing to make the elderly Snake crawl - and there we have a primitive example conforming to Aristotle's generalised aspirations for art. I won't go into it too much, however Aristotle is a hell of a lot of easier to read than Hegel, and probably more influential, so I might as well mention it quickly (quoting from the Aristotle's 'Poetics' by the way). Aristotle says that the task of the poet when writing Greek tragedy, is to depict 'the kind of events which
could occur, and are possible'. By depicting conceivably real characters and plausible actions, we are able to emphathise with characters and their situations, and as such are primed to experience the sort of emotion Ebert wrote about in his blog, the so-called Elevation. Now I can only speculate on the effectiveness of the MGS scene on the player, having not experienced it beyond YouTube, however as melodramatic as it looked to me, it does seem to be, at least to my eyes, a representation 'which is serious, complete, and of a certain magnitude [...], in the mode of dramatic enactment, not narrative', and works with the goal of arousing emotions in a similar vein to those 'of pity and fear'. Whether MGS4 accomplished the end goal of a great artistic endeavour is all matter of taste, which I would argue in large part is potentially marred for the player by some of the game's qualities; melodramatic and over the top drama characterise the MGS series and I'm not a big fan, which goes some way to preventing me (and likeminded players) from becoming overly emotionally invested. The phrase "I don't buy it" sums it up well I think, and it's a phrase that can be meted out to an overwhelming number of films, games and books that lack the spark of empathy that inspires emotions in the viewer, player and reader respectively.
But back to "practicality". All I am saying is that I think it is eminently practical, necessary even, for humans to seek to illuminate, elevate, touch, whatever, through "art." We all know videogames can and regularly do this. Videogames are art. Its a no-brainer. Maybe not all videogames are "art" but certainly many qualify.
When I started writing this message I initially disagreed with this idea of art being practical, however the more I think on it the more noticeable it is that everyone I've ever met or heard of, as far as I know, is partial to some form of fiction, whether it be in games, films, books or plays etc., and this consumption of fiction is of course widespread and unquestioned. It strikes me as strange that we as humans should be unquestionably drawn to lies. When we're extremely young we learn moral and practical lessons through stories, and narrative provides a basis for understanding the world around us. Yet when we grow up, the narratives continute, only they have grown more complex and large, and for what purpose exactly? I couldn't possibly comment any longer in this message, except to second the possibility that art might somehow be more practical in its purpose and use than is immediately apparent.
Topic: Radio Free Nintendo: Episode 180 (Read 15657 times)
