The prefix ‘re-’ holds a mighty standing in the modern times. With every email it comes as an abbreviation for reply, while ‘re-’ placed in front of many words supposes a return, or a repetition.
In fact one can struggle somewhat to define ‘re-’ without relying on ‘re-’ itself. In many instances ‘re-’ is an expression of applied will; a conscious act.
This act is replete throughout the history of the arts. Artists from all times continue to explore what at best appears to be the thorough investigation of Re. Artists re-map, re-configure, re-purpose, re-mix, re-act, re-define, re-constitute and re-play.
And play is a crucial word here.
As the video game industry has boomed in recent years, games themselves have now come under close scrutiny of the academic eye. Artists continue to use game elements in their work. But while the games medium seeks to demand respect as itself a ‘fine art’, much philosophy is bubbling up around the idea of play, it’s importance not only in games; play is increasingly being recognised as a core facet in everyday human life.
The exploration of the so-called ‘art-games’ have been afforded little inspection over recent years – perhaps the closest to the mark is Ian Bogost’s Persuasive Games (MIT Press, 2007) – but here, in Mary Flanagan‘s new book Critical Play, this close magnification on how play has shaped and influenced art for years finally comes to bear.
It’s a long-overdue text, and Flanagan manages well to take the lens of play over the pages of art history. Indeed, the book presents itself as a surefire exercise in ‘re-’, it re-contextualizes games, play and the history of the arts, and in doing so, teases out many artworks from the art historical canon for use as ripe examples in the discussion of games.
I liked Flanagans idea of games as a kind of ‘social technology’, something we use to communicate and interact with other human beings. Whether it’s chalk on the ground or pixels on screen, games do tend to foster a kind of sociable interaction. But what is being discussed? Games can be emblematic of the design technology on which they are based, but the content within the game may also trigger a deeper contemplation.
Throughout the book, Flanagan presents us with several tools that artists use – namely, subversion, disruption, and intervention – and these serve as a backbone upon which various artworks are investigated, and through which games tend to verge closer towards being considered art. Activist games and activist game design is also explored (again calling to mind Bogost), focusing on the social, political and educational instances of games.
Flanagan moves through explorations of the Rococo and Dutch ‘House Play’, with the first chapter focusing centrally on doll-play and doll houses – a femisinist (and later, psychoanalytic) exploration she carries over into screen games such as Little Computer People (Activision) and The Sims (Maxis).
Little Computer People