Video Games as an Art Form?
Close but not quite…
Whether video games can be called an art form is a matter of debate, but recent years have seen a slight shift in paradigm.
Searching “video games as art” takes us to two articles, each published by Forbes and Time. Both claim that certain new titles, thanks to recent innovations in graphics and sound design, have transcended video games to be recognised as an art form.
I found these narratives easily refutable. While it’s true that video games have become visually impressive and aesthetically pleasing, they have yet to answer the question posed by many art critics, that is, the very nature of video games contradicts art.
There is an interesting analogy between video games and buildings, but I see video games as an experience rather than something that creates an experience through artistic expressions. It seems to me that the interactivity of video games is a definitive factor that distinguishes them from traditional art forms.
As Hideo Kojima puts it, the production of a video game is a cooperative process between its creators and players. In other words, video games cannot be completed before they’re actually being played. Each gameplay is a unique experience that is simultaneously fulfilling and fleeting.
Outside of gaming, video games do not have an actual influence upon people’s opinions nor decisions. The influence emerges from certain expectations that people hold about video games, that is, the gameplay itself. So people can only imagine what it would be like to play such a game while watching a gameplay. Art does not evoke this kind of expectation.
The source of these expectations is the goal-oriented nature of video games. They demand players to fulfill set objectives while restricting their actions by certain prescribed rules. This interaction between the video game and the player makes it impossible to examine the game’s artistic potential, as the player’s focus is constantly muddled by the game’s dynamics.
It is not that such artistic elements do not exist, but they can never attain a serious examination. It is like juggling a framed painting: if one is lucky, they might be able to catch a glimpse of it from an awkward angle, but this experience is too fleeting to spark an inquiry into its quality, which is a distinct function of art.
For example, Shadow of the Colossus is a famous action-adventure game that is often hailed as a highly artistic game due to its intricate visual design. This kind of assertion, however, is based on deduction rather than actual experience, as playing a video game feels vastly different from appreciating art.
In reality, when someone is playing a video game, they hardly care about the game’s artistic aspect. Instead, what goes through their mind is: Can I climb this object? Which button should I use? Is this NPC well-programmed? Why do I hear the boss music?
How about the framerate? Is this a glitch? How can I get this item? Are there any hidden levels in this game? As previously mentioned, the technical aspect and goal-oriented nature of video games also affect the way bystanders see the game. They usually try to figure what the game is made for or examine how well it is crafted.
Be it visual, audio, or textual, every component that constitutes a video game has its own purpose, which is ultimately to improve the gaming experience. This sense of purpose or usage is absent in art. One does not behold a sculpture by thinking whether it is suitable to crack an enemy’s skull.
Both art and video games can liberate people, but only the latter come with new obligations. While art frees the mind and incites spontaneous rumination, video games circumscribe it into a narrow focus. This is why playing video games can be exciting but sometimes exhausting and even torturing.
This also explains why the gaming experience is not easily transportable. As the “Game Over” announces an intermission, the player enters a recuperatory state, in which the exhaustion resulting from the gaming hinders an intellectual exploration.
This repetition of exclusively in-game, fight-or-flight excitement and the subsequent break makes video games highly addictive. Art also haunts its consumers, but it does not affect their intellectual capability in any way. The art experience is thus ever-present and transportable, as its consumers do not feel the need to “get it back” at such short intervals.
This allows the art experience to be followed by a digestive process. This is not to say that video games don’t create that moment of reflection, but whether such a limitation exists or not is a decisive difference between video games and art.
This limitation of the gaming experience exists regardless of genre or degree of interactivity, as every video game operates within a certain framework. This framework does not allow each visual and sound element to be examined individually, as these elements and the gameplay are, in essence, inextricable.
This also distinguishes video games from films, which also went through the same kind of skepticism in their infancy. German expressionists, as well as creators like Jean Cocteau quickly demolished such preconceptions.
In essence, both films and video games are profit-oriented, but the latter lacks a genre dedicated to artistic pursuits. There are auteur games, but not art games (although some might argue).
The Forbes article which I mentioned earlier expands Warhol’s definition of art (“Art is anything you can get away with”) to include video games, but this is also easily refutable, as video games do receive unabated criticisms both contemporarily and retrospectively.
Criticisms for video games are among the harshest kinds. Most recently, the highly anticipated video game Cyberpunk 2077 faced severe backlash due to its bug-riddled state of play. While fans demanded refunds in outrage, discussions about the game’s aesthetics did not find any room.
Crucially, video games are not discussed in relation to distant subjects, such as philosophy, anthropology, geography, and history. Even games like ‘Ghost of Tsushima’ do not often instigate discussions as to how they reinterpret or reimagine certain historical events.
This is because video games simply reuse preexisting materials to accommodate their needs. This strong gravitation towards clichés suggests that video games are, in essence, secondary creations: preexisting materials rearranged into new forms.
There is no single game title that is universally recognised as an artwork. No video games have ever instigated an art movement. The fact that the video game industry has been unable to put an end to this debate is proof enough that video games can never become an art form.
What are video games to art, then? Some say they are similar to collaborative art, particularly of Dadaism. Some say they are a kind of sport (which I do agree) and have nothing to do with art. Some even argue that they are detrimental to art, although this is hard to prove. I believe video games can be used against art, but the industry hardly seems to be interested in doing so.
What’s indisputable is that video games as a concept have so far given rise to numerous art styles and aesthetics, much like modern science did to the science fiction genre. This clearly indicates that playing video games can be as inspirational as going to an art gallery.
In my opinion, video games should never aspire to become an art form, as it would lead to inpaired gameplay. If there were a purely artistic game, it would be a bad one, and no one wants to play a bad game save perhaps for Angry Game Nerd.
