The following article was not written by an academic, not by a games journalist, nor a developer with a wealth of experience in the art and systems of video games. It was written in a stream of consciousness late night binge, by a person who wants videogames to reach the promised land of ?High Art?. It exists to generate a discussion, not as a be all and end all of the debate. It asks a question, but may not provide the answer. You have been warned! 
NOW FOR A WALL OF TEXT!!!!!!
What is art?
Ask that question and you will never get a satisfying answer, from yourself, from anybody.
What exactly is the perspective of the questioneer? What are they seeking as an answer?
If they, or you, are asking in a purely rhetorical fashion, does that imply that the 20 plus hours of playing Skyrim on Master difficulty is somehow not as ?worthy? as watching Beasts Of The Southern Wild?
If they, or you, are seeking a definitive answer, have they/you any artistic background from which the debate can unfold over? If not, then the conversation will inevitably turn towards some outright hostility, as examples are brought up, seniority in years gets bandied about and no destination befitting such a question is even in sight.
If that sounds like pointless drivel trying to lead up to something meaningful, that's because it is.
Which is kind of the problem with most games...
I did not grow up with the supposed ?classics?, the super marios, the zeldas, the dooms nor the Metal Gears. I grew up with Halo, with Fire Emblem, with Golden Sun. Each of these games are derivative, building on tropes and concepts already well established within their respective genres. In the case of Halo: Combat Evolved, it grew from the template well established by Doom and sprinkled in a few elements of Half-Life.
Fire Emblem used the tried and true turn based mechanics of its predecessors and added a huge dose of roleplaying to personalize the experience.
Golden Sun is basically Final Fantasy crossed with Crono Trigger (and some Pokemon....it's a long story).
All three of these games easily slot into the great game discussions (Halo is still considered in the top 20 greatest games of all time by most gaming websites and magazines, and Fire Emblem definitely deserves to be ranked alongside it), but are they ?high art??.
?High Art??. While the solid definition of Art itself hasn't yet been fully established (If you still find yourself asking ?Is it art?? about a particular piece or performance then the question is proof positive of a lack of a universal definition), there are clearly examples of High Art in almost every medium. Da Vinci's Mona Lisa, Shakespeare's Hamlet, Welles' Citizen Kane and Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, etc, etc, etc.
Works such as those have held up to rigorous critical analysis by academics and popular consensus, and no one is ever going to question that they are the titans, the gold standard for their mediums (keep in mind that there are multiple examples in each field, as there is no work that can be termed ?the greatest? without the termer being subjected to a drubbing worthy of the Cleveland Browns) and serve as a source of inspiration for generations. What game can possibly hold up to that standard?
It seems increasingly clear that the late Roger Ebert, when he made his infamous claims that videogames could never be art, was right...at the time at least. Before his first foray into the white noise of videogame fandom, what games could we point to? Super Mario Bros? Too hallucinogenicaly weird. Half-Life 2? too derivative of modern science fiction to stand on its own legs. What about Shadow Of The Colossus? Metal Gear Solid? Ocarina Of Time? Respectively, maybe, Ha! And the graphics remind me of balloon animals.
Let's be honest, Halo, Mario and Final Fantasy combined weren't enough for people to start attacking every aspect of them, searching for some hidden meaning beyond just being fun games and escapist fantasy. Let's face it, Harry Potter has a better case for being ?High Art? than all of the platformers and adventure games, circa. 2005, could ever be.
However, after Roger Ebert (reffered to hence as A.R.E.), we have a dizzying array of titles that, at the very least, tried. Tried to be something, to say or convey meaningful ideas. A.R.E. Everything started moving forward.
Spec Ops: The Line, a modern military shooter that explored the dark crevasses of the human mind in war, utilizing the mechanics of Gears Of War, the linear pathing and cinematic spectacle of Call Of Duty and a soundtrack of dissonant rock and roll covering the slaughter of your enemies.
Fez, A puzzle platformer, using a perspective switching mechanic to explore the beautiful game world and solve its deepest mysteries. It evokes the joy of exploring the world, in real life and in videogames, and figuring out your place in it.
Dear Esther, a ?game? where you walk around an island (which is hauntingly beautiful) and try and dredge some meaning from fragments of narration and the simple act of exploring the island.
These three examples are, in my opinion, a huge evolutionary leap over the three great games that I opened this article with. They aren't just ?games? (and in one case the word game needs not apply), but experiences, expressions of ideas and the artists' cohesive vision....to an extent. Even these three games (Highly acclaimed by critics ), have several pressing issues which act as a buffer, as the final sticking point when someone says ?If you play this game it will enrich your life?. ?High Art??
To be fair, it's not like any work of art is perfect. Hamlet is, by modern standards at least, almost incomprehensible without translations of its references on the opposite page (If you actually know what ?seek him in the other place?1 means, then by all means slap me when I say it, I will say congratulations for actually staying awake in English Class). The Mona Lisa is vague to the point of fruitless questioning (why exactly is the horizon off-kilter?). Heck, even Citizen Kane gets bandied about more as a trendy catch all then as an enjoyable experience in its own right (I couldn't get past the pterodactyl, and the mere fact that no one hears Kane's last words).
But these flaws arguably enhance the enjoyment of these works, giving a unique insight into the limitations of the respective mediums, and give us a helpful reminder that the artist is merely human, conveying human ideas and emotions in the best way he/she can. It's not like their presence invalidates the deeper meanings, the messages or implied experiences.
So Spec Ops: The Line, it has a multiplayer mode. It's completely generic, and what you would expect from a game like Uncharted or Gears Of War (or as I like to call those games, genocidal bru-haha), not from a serious treatise on Post Traumatic Stress and the horrors of the human soul. The mode exists like a cancerous tumour on the single-player experience, exposing a good half of the content of the game as pure product over art.
Man of Fez's puzzles rely on absurd ways to solve them, in many ways many of the puzzles simply don't deserve such a thought provoking title. A fair amount of them require QR scanners, as in you hold up a smartphone to your television and scan the game. To which I can only say, What!!??
Dear Esther, is not even a game, in the traditional sense, but it's relying on its status as a ?game? to get the player to explore the island, and the player can never influence the outcome, beyond the randomly generated fragments that spew forth from the narrator, which mostly comes off as a cheap attempt to force multiple play throughs.
All three of these games, with the problems they have, raise serious questions towards the high art aspirations of the medium. In SOTL's case, does the presence of an external market force, the multiplayer, invalidate the message of the game? In Fez, does the requirement to have a QR scanner, not as a source of inspiration or creative thinking but as the cardboard door on the advent calender keeping you from your precious chocolate, neglect the exploratory, introspective nature of the game?
Dear Esther raises the most serious question, are we safe even calling it a videogame? Dear Esther is clearly reaching further than Fez and SOTL, in terms of execution at least (SOTL and Fez have a few other issues beyond the major ones posed here 2 3), but is masking itself as a game really the way to convey its deeper meanings? This crisis of identity, while Dear Esther suffers the most from it, infects the entire industry.
This crisis of identity is partially a result of the derivative nature of the medium. There are very few examples of games that sprang up from nowhere, with minimal influence drawn from other mediums. Metal Gear Solid has its roots in 80's action movies, Final Fantasy is a large scale Dungeons and Dragons opera, and Bioshock rips Ayn Rand's philosophies for the purposes of wallpapering its environments and story. That's not to say that there are none (Loneliness, Journey, El Shaddai: Ascension Of The Metatron and Kairo are a few examples), but the influences they draw from often run counter to the element crucial to the whole medium, the concept of ?playing the games?.
A rule set, interacting with the systems of the game, using that interaction to draw meaning. Games are software, and thus while a great story and gorgeous art design can carry a game far, without the successful interaction of those aspects and the systems put in place to govern them, games can not be high art. Some of this barrier comes with the technological limitations of days past, which are slowly being lifted. Some comes from external market forces, and others come from the sometimes withering emphasis on ?fun?. The influences drawn from other mediums can distract as well (various attempts at cinematic gameplay often fall flat due to the often absurd nature of the actions of the player contrasting with the ?reality? of the cinema). So where does this leave us?
If games are art, then where is its high art? A.R.E. That became a sort of rallying call for the newest generation of game developers, and progress has most certainly been made. The spectacle of games has long since faded from its Space Invader launching points, now the message has started to throw its hat into the ring, begging for space. Fez, SOTL and Dear Esther are, at the very least some of the more prominent examples of the heights that the experiences can reach, and I would vey much say that they are worth your time, but with a grain of salt must they be played.
For now, it's ok to find enjoyment, sometimes fulfillment, from playing Red Dead Redemption, Tomb Raider and Skyrim. There's nothing wrong with that, but I, for one, want a game (or experience) to move me, not just kinetically, not in a ?oh, this is so fun? way, but emotionally. I haven't found a game that unifies the systems of its software, Art and Story to a degree where there is no doubt, but when I find it, by god I'll trumpet it to the heavens.
Now, If you'll excuse me, i'm off to raid a dungeon and defeat that damn draugr guarding the final treasure chest.
NOW FOR A WALL OF TEXT!!!!!!
What is art?
Ask that question and you will never get a satisfying answer, from yourself, from anybody.
What exactly is the perspective of the questioneer? What are they seeking as an answer?
If they, or you, are asking in a purely rhetorical fashion, does that imply that the 20 plus hours of playing Skyrim on Master difficulty is somehow not as ?worthy? as watching Beasts Of The Southern Wild?
If they, or you, are seeking a definitive answer, have they/you any artistic background from which the debate can unfold over? If not, then the conversation will inevitably turn towards some outright hostility, as examples are brought up, seniority in years gets bandied about and no destination befitting such a question is even in sight.
If that sounds like pointless drivel trying to lead up to something meaningful, that's because it is.
Which is kind of the problem with most games...
I did not grow up with the supposed ?classics?, the super marios, the zeldas, the dooms nor the Metal Gears. I grew up with Halo, with Fire Emblem, with Golden Sun. Each of these games are derivative, building on tropes and concepts already well established within their respective genres. In the case of Halo: Combat Evolved, it grew from the template well established by Doom and sprinkled in a few elements of Half-Life.
Fire Emblem used the tried and true turn based mechanics of its predecessors and added a huge dose of roleplaying to personalize the experience.
Golden Sun is basically Final Fantasy crossed with Crono Trigger (and some Pokemon....it's a long story).
All three of these games easily slot into the great game discussions (Halo is still considered in the top 20 greatest games of all time by most gaming websites and magazines, and Fire Emblem definitely deserves to be ranked alongside it), but are they ?high art??.
?High Art??. While the solid definition of Art itself hasn't yet been fully established (If you still find yourself asking ?Is it art?? about a particular piece or performance then the question is proof positive of a lack of a universal definition), there are clearly examples of High Art in almost every medium. Da Vinci's Mona Lisa, Shakespeare's Hamlet, Welles' Citizen Kane and Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, etc, etc, etc.
Works such as those have held up to rigorous critical analysis by academics and popular consensus, and no one is ever going to question that they are the titans, the gold standard for their mediums (keep in mind that there are multiple examples in each field, as there is no work that can be termed ?the greatest? without the termer being subjected to a drubbing worthy of the Cleveland Browns) and serve as a source of inspiration for generations. What game can possibly hold up to that standard?
It seems increasingly clear that the late Roger Ebert, when he made his infamous claims that videogames could never be art, was right...at the time at least. Before his first foray into the white noise of videogame fandom, what games could we point to? Super Mario Bros? Too hallucinogenicaly weird. Half-Life 2? too derivative of modern science fiction to stand on its own legs. What about Shadow Of The Colossus? Metal Gear Solid? Ocarina Of Time? Respectively, maybe, Ha! And the graphics remind me of balloon animals.
Let's be honest, Halo, Mario and Final Fantasy combined weren't enough for people to start attacking every aspect of them, searching for some hidden meaning beyond just being fun games and escapist fantasy. Let's face it, Harry Potter has a better case for being ?High Art? than all of the platformers and adventure games, circa. 2005, could ever be.
However, after Roger Ebert (reffered to hence as A.R.E.), we have a dizzying array of titles that, at the very least, tried. Tried to be something, to say or convey meaningful ideas. A.R.E. Everything started moving forward.
Spec Ops: The Line, a modern military shooter that explored the dark crevasses of the human mind in war, utilizing the mechanics of Gears Of War, the linear pathing and cinematic spectacle of Call Of Duty and a soundtrack of dissonant rock and roll covering the slaughter of your enemies.
Fez, A puzzle platformer, using a perspective switching mechanic to explore the beautiful game world and solve its deepest mysteries. It evokes the joy of exploring the world, in real life and in videogames, and figuring out your place in it.
Dear Esther, a ?game? where you walk around an island (which is hauntingly beautiful) and try and dredge some meaning from fragments of narration and the simple act of exploring the island.
These three examples are, in my opinion, a huge evolutionary leap over the three great games that I opened this article with. They aren't just ?games? (and in one case the word game needs not apply), but experiences, expressions of ideas and the artists' cohesive vision....to an extent. Even these three games (Highly acclaimed by critics ), have several pressing issues which act as a buffer, as the final sticking point when someone says ?If you play this game it will enrich your life?. ?High Art??
To be fair, it's not like any work of art is perfect. Hamlet is, by modern standards at least, almost incomprehensible without translations of its references on the opposite page (If you actually know what ?seek him in the other place?1 means, then by all means slap me when I say it, I will say congratulations for actually staying awake in English Class). The Mona Lisa is vague to the point of fruitless questioning (why exactly is the horizon off-kilter?). Heck, even Citizen Kane gets bandied about more as a trendy catch all then as an enjoyable experience in its own right (I couldn't get past the pterodactyl, and the mere fact that no one hears Kane's last words).
But these flaws arguably enhance the enjoyment of these works, giving a unique insight into the limitations of the respective mediums, and give us a helpful reminder that the artist is merely human, conveying human ideas and emotions in the best way he/she can. It's not like their presence invalidates the deeper meanings, the messages or implied experiences.
So Spec Ops: The Line, it has a multiplayer mode. It's completely generic, and what you would expect from a game like Uncharted or Gears Of War (or as I like to call those games, genocidal bru-haha), not from a serious treatise on Post Traumatic Stress and the horrors of the human soul. The mode exists like a cancerous tumour on the single-player experience, exposing a good half of the content of the game as pure product over art.
Man of Fez's puzzles rely on absurd ways to solve them, in many ways many of the puzzles simply don't deserve such a thought provoking title. A fair amount of them require QR scanners, as in you hold up a smartphone to your television and scan the game. To which I can only say, What!!??
Dear Esther, is not even a game, in the traditional sense, but it's relying on its status as a ?game? to get the player to explore the island, and the player can never influence the outcome, beyond the randomly generated fragments that spew forth from the narrator, which mostly comes off as a cheap attempt to force multiple play throughs.
All three of these games, with the problems they have, raise serious questions towards the high art aspirations of the medium. In SOTL's case, does the presence of an external market force, the multiplayer, invalidate the message of the game? In Fez, does the requirement to have a QR scanner, not as a source of inspiration or creative thinking but as the cardboard door on the advent calender keeping you from your precious chocolate, neglect the exploratory, introspective nature of the game?
Dear Esther raises the most serious question, are we safe even calling it a videogame? Dear Esther is clearly reaching further than Fez and SOTL, in terms of execution at least (SOTL and Fez have a few other issues beyond the major ones posed here 2 3), but is masking itself as a game really the way to convey its deeper meanings? This crisis of identity, while Dear Esther suffers the most from it, infects the entire industry.
This crisis of identity is partially a result of the derivative nature of the medium. There are very few examples of games that sprang up from nowhere, with minimal influence drawn from other mediums. Metal Gear Solid has its roots in 80's action movies, Final Fantasy is a large scale Dungeons and Dragons opera, and Bioshock rips Ayn Rand's philosophies for the purposes of wallpapering its environments and story. That's not to say that there are none (Loneliness, Journey, El Shaddai: Ascension Of The Metatron and Kairo are a few examples), but the influences they draw from often run counter to the element crucial to the whole medium, the concept of ?playing the games?.
A rule set, interacting with the systems of the game, using that interaction to draw meaning. Games are software, and thus while a great story and gorgeous art design can carry a game far, without the successful interaction of those aspects and the systems put in place to govern them, games can not be high art. Some of this barrier comes with the technological limitations of days past, which are slowly being lifted. Some comes from external market forces, and others come from the sometimes withering emphasis on ?fun?. The influences drawn from other mediums can distract as well (various attempts at cinematic gameplay often fall flat due to the often absurd nature of the actions of the player contrasting with the ?reality? of the cinema). So where does this leave us?
If games are art, then where is its high art? A.R.E. That became a sort of rallying call for the newest generation of game developers, and progress has most certainly been made. The spectacle of games has long since faded from its Space Invader launching points, now the message has started to throw its hat into the ring, begging for space. Fez, SOTL and Dear Esther are, at the very least some of the more prominent examples of the heights that the experiences can reach, and I would vey much say that they are worth your time, but with a grain of salt must they be played.
For now, it's ok to find enjoyment, sometimes fulfillment, from playing Red Dead Redemption, Tomb Raider and Skyrim. There's nothing wrong with that, but I, for one, want a game (or experience) to move me, not just kinetically, not in a ?oh, this is so fun? way, but emotionally. I haven't found a game that unifies the systems of its software, Art and Story to a degree where there is no doubt, but when I find it, by god I'll trumpet it to the heavens.
Now, If you'll excuse me, i'm off to raid a dungeon and defeat that damn draugr guarding the final treasure chest.
