Paola Antonelli of the New York Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) has announced today that the museum will be exhibiting 14 video games as part of its Architecture and Design collection starting in March 2013. In addition to exhibi...
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[Rob Parker is a freelance writer based in the North of England, where it rains every day. Except the days when it hails. Rob stays sane (and dry) by plunging himself into the simulated worlds of videogames, and writing stories about the adventures he has therein. His work can be found on his blog.]
There’s this speech that always chokes me up, given to a graduating class at Kenyon College in America, by the writer David Foster Wallace. It’s a beautiful speech, infused with a kind of honest optimism that is less hope for the world to be a certain way, and more determination to see the world as it truly is: to see the terror and splendor that shines forth from every small moment of existence -- every lonely evening at the supermarket, every petty encounter with motorists on the drive home from work.
That Wallace, three years after the speech was given, succumbed to the demons of depression he had battled his whole adult life, killing himself in 2008, in no way invalidates his message. Rather, it charges it with even more urgency, even more pathos. There are dark times ahead for all of us, he seems to say -- work hard to love and to feel, while you still can.
Anyway, Wallace opened his speech with a joke about fish, and it’s this joke I’d like to pilfer now, respectfully, as an opening for this essay.
There are these two young fish, so the joke goes, just swimming along, slacking off. They see an older fish in the distance, swimming towards them from the opposite direction. As the older fish passes, he waves his fin at the youngsters and says, “Morning, boys, how’s the water?” The two young fish swim on a way, in silence, then finally one turns to the other and says, “What the hell is ‘water’?”
The greatest comment I've ever read from a community member anywhere was, "Son of a s**t-eating Christ, not another 'games as art' argument. Excuse me while I alleviate my pain by shooting out my left ball." Nope, I'm not making that up; someone actually said that, and it tickled me pink to realize that others are just as annoyed at this industry's self-righteous attempt to validate itself in the eyes of people who, humorously enough, don't give a damn about games.
Ain't that a funny thing? Most of the "games are art" arguments are delivered to those who know nothing about the medium and haven't played a single game in their entire lives ... as if what they think matters at all. Even more hysterical is how most of these arguments are made by people who don't know squat about art and have no experience with it (except for the class they took in high school). Easy credits FTW.
But wait, what about me? I have a degree in art -- a Bachelors of Science, to be exact. I have a "soap box" (for now, anyhow). Why haven't I bothered saying anything on the matter? Hah, oh yes, I remember: Because I don't care about it. I regard my degree and education just about as much as this entire industry would regard the title of "artistic," were they to actually acquire it from the non-gamers they so aim to please. At this point, as an educationally approved "artist," I would much rather this entire industry just shut the f**k up about it all, because none of it really matters.
[Warning: One of the images in this article may be considered NSFW. Proceed at your own discretion ... or when your boss isn't looking]
[Editor's note: Community member Jonathan Chang (Changston on the site!) visited the recent opening of the Smithsonian's new exhibit: The Art of Video Games. Here is his great write-up on the experience. -Chad]
Games as art. ...
By now, you have probably played thatgamecompany's fascinating, beautiful new PSN game, Journey. And you have probably formulated your own thoughts on how the game made you feel.
Knowing that playing Journey was sure to make me feel ... something, I decided to document every single minute of my experience with the game -- from beginning to end. Every thought. Every feeling. Every reaction.
If you have yet to play Journey, I would recommend not reading this, as the game is best played without any idea what to expect. But for everyone else, I hope this unfiltered stream of consciousness while playing through Journey will inspire you to share your own thoughts and feelings on the game.
Chris Melissinos, technology figurehead and guest curator of the Smithsonian's Art of Video Games exhibit, shares an enlightening perspective about what makes games an art form.
In this short video, Chris describes thr...
The Smithsonian is gearing up for their "Art of Video Games" exhibit which will feature images, concept art, sketches, and footage from 80 games.
The games have been judged and voted, the art has been chosen, and all that's l...
The National Endowment for the Arts provides funding in the form of grants for a wide variety of creative endeavors. Now, the NEA has replaced its "Arts in Radio and Television" category of grants to a much more expansive "Ar...
Remember that video Anthony Burch made a while back? Sure you do. And if not, go watch it now as a frame of reference.
Game Informer has the exclusive, non-embeddable debut trailer for Saints Row: The Third up on their websi...
The Smithsonian is planning the "Art of Video Games" exhibition and they'd like your input on what games to feature. Set to open on March 16, 2012 in Washington D.C., this exhibition will feature the first 40 years of gaming ...
Mike Newell, best known for the Harry Potter series and Four Weddings and a Funeral, doesn't like videogames. He can't play them, he thinks they're vapid, and talking about them "bores the arse" off him. Didn't stop him from ...
[Sundays with Sagat is a video series where a man named Sagat talks to you about videogames. This is serious business.]
Welcome to the premiere episode of Sundays with Sagat, a new Destructoid-exclusive video series.
At this year's GDC, I had the opportunity to give a brief talk at the Artgame Sessions, organized by John Sharp and Daniel Benmergui. That session, along with many others, can now be streamed for free at the GDC Vault.
Organized by Naughty Dog co-lead designer Richard Lemarchand, "GDC Microtalks 2010: Ten Speakers, 200 Slides, Limitless Ideas) accomplished pretty much what it said on the tin. Ten different game designers from drastically di...
In this bonus footage from CollegeHumor's Bleep Bloop, pop culture journalist Chuck Klosterman argues that, unlike works found in literature or film, games can be reasonably said to have gotten better and better as the years ...
At the time of this writing, I have just finished No More Heroes 2: Desperate Struggle after a 16-hour marathon play through, with occasional breaks to nap and go to the bathroom. This is not the best way to go about playing a game for review, but due to equally important Tatsunoko-oriented commitments, it couldn't be avoided.
So here I am, trying to sum up and explain a game that will probably take months of analysis and multiple play-throughs to fully wrap my head around. Also, I really have to go to the bathroom, which is ironic, because Suda51 (the creator of No More Heroes) sees his games as a sort of psychological bowel movement. All the information he takes in -- movies, videogames, anime, relationships, conversations, everything that makes up his day-to-day life -- is chewed up in his mind, and pooped out in the form of No More Heroes.
I'm going to try and take that as inspiration and go to the toilet myself. After that, I'll be pooping out the best No More Heroes 2 review that I can. Take a look for it after the jump, but beware of possible minor, non-story-related spoilers.