It’s silly that I felt the compulsion to write my own opinion on whether or not video games can qualify as forms of art. Even after almost two decades of convincing arguments in favor of it, one can still find new articles written by seemingly everyone online bringing up the argument; few people are still against classifying games as art, so these arguments are likely brought on by people wanting to make a point, even if it means making the point to an inanimate brick wall. The reason I bring up the subject now (in 2018) is because, by chance, I was able to attend a local academic symposium dedicated to whether or not games are art, and examples of their role in society. While I thoroughly enjoyed the event and learned a lot from viewpoints I typically don’t get a chance to converse with, the conference actually took me a step backwards in my thinking rather than forwards towards their thesis.

Should games be shown alongside paintings?

So, let’s start from the beginning. Surely, video games are art. Yes, early games from pre-1990 seemed like nothing but a series of arbitrary pixels, but this is akin to cave paintings from our distant ancestors: it was a new tool we had not yet fully developed or understood, and after decades of advancement and experimenting, we are today capable of rendering virtually any idea in front of our eyes with a computer, be it realistic or abstract. Even long ago, games were effectively telling stories, initially simple and reliant on the player’s personal experience, and now capable of complex linear and non-linear narratives, with all the emotional gravitas of a good book or theatrical film. And literature and video have long been accepted as art, every bit as applicable as a Greek sculpture or Italian painting, so why would video games still need to be defended?

On the opposite end of the spectrum, I was surprised at how easy it was to find people opposing the argument. A full Wikipedia page is dedicated to the conversation. High-profile members like film critic Roger Ebert and game auteur Hideo Kojima believe games are not really art. Common arguments are that games have goals and rules, typically in the spirit of competition. The added layer of interactivity, which some argue is why video games supersede other forms of art, is in itself proof that games cannot be art, for instead of being observed and depicting a specific intent, they lead to outcomes outside the artist’s control. It is more comparable to sport, like Football or Hockey. But there exist other sports in the Olympics: surely, no one would argue against the idea that figure skating and ribbon twirling are forms of art, despite competition being a factor? Similarly, chess players are competitors and not artists… or are they? Who is to say that understanding and taking steps to achieve a goal isn’t a form of art? With this comparison, it is more appropriate to say that the game player is like the artist rather than the game maker, except the player isn’t trying to craft any experience for others, they are only following the adventure for their independent self. Whoever invented interpretive dance likely did not seek out a specific emotional response from those who would dance or those who would watch it, they simply created a sandbox to let artists run wild. A game maker is a strange in-between from one who defines a game sandbox (programmer of a game engine, or a producer who writes the high-level rules) and the player, capable of placing subtle visual and audio feedback clues to both move forward in a game and to elicit an emotion or idea in the player’s head. As such, a game maker has much of the capabilities of an artist. And we haven’t even begun to discuss games that are distinctly meant to convey an experience and move forward a story, comparable to more experimental artists who take over entire outdoor parks and museum floors to make a person walk through their abstract world of color and ideas.

It is easy to pick apart the arguments made to this end: I like Roger Ebert (may he rest in peace), but his online essay clearly shows that he has never actually played any of the games that he used in his arguments, and that he would claim games of the PS3-era couldn’t compare to films from the early 1900’s is ludicrous. Alternatively, most young adults today would say the exact opposite, that “Uncharted 2” or “Forza 4” are leagues beyond films like “Gone with the Wind” or “A Voyage To The Moon” in their artistic merit. Middle-aged adults would say the original “The Legend of Zelda” or “Final Fantasy III” are more significant than either of those newer games or older films. Philosophical debates could go on for an eternity, but for the majority of people arguing games are not art (without simply seeking some excuse to fight), it is their opinion based on their lack of having played any games, and the topic of what qualifies as art is largely a matter of the generation you grew up in. Regardless, “games are art dang it!,” and there is nothing more to discuss.

So back to that academic symposium I mentioned. The talks were largely revolved around games as experiences for change, rather than for fun. They talked at length about the incredible and advant-garde work of indie developers posting their experimental game jam projects online on “itch.io,” at how their limited and crude styles represented something more raw and personal to the developer. They discussed their own works, mostly built on trying to convey abstract emotions or shine light on impoverished countries or underrepresented minorities. At one point, one of the featured speakers discussed how he submitted his games to “IndieCade,” and the judges didn’t accept the work, stating in feedback reviews “this is thoughtful and has merit… but isn’t fun.” The developer then emailed the director of the event and got accepted, bypassing the typical art process (I had to use my full control to not stand up in the middle of the audience… “IndieCade” and other conventions like it are a competition, much like film festivals, where being selected is a badge of honor. There are limited spots, and thousands of games get rejected to narrow down to the best and most appropriate to the audience. If you didn’t get accepted, it’s because of the judges’ opinion that there were several games that were better than yours, their opinions are valid, you are supposed to move on and submit to other festivals or make a new project. I’ve always had mixed thoughts about “IndieCade” and their fundamentals, but the idea that someone could simply go to the director and say ” <sniff> Mommy, they didn’t give me an award <sniff> ” and actually get a backdoor entrance is infuriating.). At a separate unrelated panel discussion, developers talked about the importance of crafting a story with intention towards a target audience, describing making a story purely to satisfy yourself akin to “mental masturbation” (I generally disagree, as the process of trying to appease the general masses through theme or story has often been misguided to fail at market and is thus futile, and I can’t think of any high-end art pieces that catered to any specific audience anyhow). It seemed that the idea of actual gameplay was being ignored in favor of the underlying themes of the games by the presenters, so I awkwardly asked whether the gameplay itself factors in to a game’s validation of great art. Doesn’t it matter if the game is fun? The panel sort of scoffed, and asked back “how do you define fun?” before dropping the question and continuing to take other audience questions. Near the end, there was a roundtable discussion open to audience members and presenters, and the topics were stuck on the representation and treatment of women and LBGTQ in game stories and multiplayer experiences and how the #metoo movement factored in.

I have a feeling I was out of place.

As I grow older, I feel I gain a greater appreciation for mediums of art that are important to me. Unlike most people I know, I love the idea of dedicating full days to watch movies I’ve never heard of at film festivals. I like learning about new indie games and the secrets behind their worlds. I enjoy the occasional good book or BBC television drama. But in almost all of these cases, there is a premise or theatrical quality that has to draw me in to get excited. If it is documentary about a war-torn nation or a story about a teenager struggling to come out as gay to his family, that’s all well and good, but frame the story in a way that feels compelling, or surround the theme in a more entertaining example of escapism. There exist many important messages to say in the world, and virtually all of them can be translated to a fun or emotional experience. While it is typically ignored in talking about art, entertainment value and appeal to a mass market is important. This conference audience seemed completely ignorant of this. They came across as pretentious, capable of citing historical references and obscure artists from Cuba to prove that games are art, but not fully understanding what a game is, at least in the eyes of the general public. As a result, nearly every game or experience they mentioned doesn’t sound like something I would actively seek to support or play, and I suspect the average person not present at the conference would feel the same.

“They came across as pretentious, capable… to prove that games are art, but not fully understanding what a game is…”

But what is fun? And does it really relate to art? This brings us to the exact definition or art itself, which can vary greatly, but is often boiled down to (as seen on the Wikipedia page) “expressing the artist’s imaginative or technical skill, intended to be appreciated for their beauty or emotional power.” Even beauty itself triggers a subconscious emotional response that makes one feel closer to the piece. But this definition can be applied to almost anything, be it storytelling, the written word, acting, rap music, cuisine, architecture, or graphic design in advertising. In art classes, I had to learn about “art appreciation,” and left understanding that basically anything and everything can be considered art, be it intended or experimental, and its value and merit is based on the opinion of whomever looks at it. This was an easy feature to exploit, and while I do work hard to improve myself artistically, I recall completing art assignments in class and being able to make up what I was thinking and what the piece meant within hours before a presentation, successfully boosting my grades a bit higher when it was convincing enough. Truly, even the light switch on the wall I am currently looking at is art: while it was made to serve a functional purpose, it is made to look intuitive to use it, with colors that make it easy to find but not too ugly against the rest of the room, and with a satisfying click when I turn off the lights. Why wouldn’t this be art?

It terms of games, the fact that they are interactive is important and unique to their medium. But does something “fun” qualify as art? Making something fun is not trivial. There are several good resources that describe how modern games and websites use visual and audio cues to help guide a player and make them want to stay with the experience longer, and while this is arguably just exploiting a impulse in brain activity, that does not reduce its merit any further. It creates an emotion, even if it is a primitive one. Even the act of taking drugs and sex cause emotions, and as such can be described as art, especially if someone involved is acting to cause a specific reaction from the other. There are examples of art exhibits where the artist did not know what reaction the viewer would have, deliberately trying to break the rules of what “art” is by making the viewer’s opinion more unique, and being applauded for it. While difficult to accept, this suggests literally anything observed by a human person could be art.

Perhaps that is overreaching it. To say that anything and everything is art would reduce the value of what we celebrate as art. And in a sense, this is already happening. First through public galleries and libraries, and now through the Internet and online preservation, new generations have free and easy access to content greater than any generation that came before. And they don’t respect the older classics like they used to; why should they, when several better forms of art were made in any given week of 2017? The ease of access makes taking in art a more personal and passive affair, no longer will the public leave their homes with the explicit purpose of viewing something, and if staying indoors instead, why not simply take a nap? Content creators are increasingly under pressure to make their works more fun, to cater to primitive and universal feelings, if only to capture a viewer’s attention for a few moments. Because if an artist makes something that no one views, is it really art? Art is in the eye of the beholder, and without an eye to translate the work to an emotion, the work is meaningless. I think it is this very consumerism viewpoint, the goal to make money, that causes some nay-sayers to still claim video games as not being forms of art, and yet I argue the opposite: without that drive for people to experience it, even if it was at the expense of the work itself, a work of art would have no reason to exist.

The question is really no longer whether or not video games can be classified as art. The real question is “what is art?” And, more importantly, does it really matter any more, or is it an entirely futile effort in the modern world of convenient consumerism? And please state your opinion in less than two sentences, a new Netflix show just came out and I was planning to marathon it tonight…