Game Developer Creates "The Artist Is Present" Video Game; Marina Abramović Finds it Unendurable
The Virtual Gaze of Marina Abramović
May 15th, 2013 found me sitting just across from the legendary performance artist, Marina Abramović. She was all casual in a red T-shirt with a braid gracing her left shoulder, looking remarkably similar to her famous performance, "The Artist is Present." But this wasn't some silent, uncomfortable encounter – we were chatting about time and video games. But let's not get ahead of ourselves...
You see, back in 2011, I was taking an experimental game design course at the IT University of Copenhagen. On my second day there, I spoke about various artistic oddities, including Abramović and her renowned performance piece. My intention was to inspire the students with the idea of incorporating an experimental mindset in their work. And like a foolhardy dare, I declared that I'd translate "The Artist is Present" into a video game.
Abramović's performance involved her sitting for eight hours a day in the atrium of MoMA, inviting visitors to sit opposite her in silence. Over the span of three months, more than 1,000 people sat in silence and held her gaze, with some finding it so moving they returned 21 times. There was a palpable tension present, and the anticipation to sit across from the artist was palpable. It was this audience experience that I aimed to capture in a digital format.
At first, my game concept appeared straightforward – just a person sitting in a chair for a long time. But Abramović's work was anything but simple. My initial bravado evolved into a challenge to accurately represent this captivating experience. As I brainstormed the specifics, I realized that the real attraction of the original work lay in the audience's experience – the hours spent waiting, the building anticipation, and the feelings of expectation and time.
So, let's dive into this digital interpretation of "The Artist is Present."
We kick things off outside a pixel-art version of MoMA's entrance, inspired by classic Sierra games. Our character is randomly generated, as just another museum visitor, not a super-soldier or a fantasy warrior. The messages pop up, informing us that the museum is closed when we don't check the hours. This serves as our first hint that time in this game doesn't function quite like it does in other titles. Some may view it as an initial hurdle, yet players have responded warmly to this real-world time restriction – it makes the virtual world feel more substantial.
Once we've confirmed our visit falls during the museum's hours, we're greeted by a ticket booth, where we purchase a $25 ticket (but rest assured, it's play money). The familiar rhythm of video game progression sets in – world opens, player moves, world unfolds – yet here, time is not a continuous thing, but rather a series of punctuated events.
As we traversed the blocky corridors, we're greeted by iconic works like "The Starry Night" and "Olive Trees," yet we're also met with a good dose of queuing – a characteristic of the museum-going public, but seldom found in video games. However, instead of being something to be avoided, this active waiting serves as a nod to Abramović's long durational performances. The lines can feel uncomfortable and tedious, but they're also a chance for us to really contemplate the passage of time, much like the original performance did for its participants.
Upon reaching the front of the line, we're seated opposite a woman in a red dress: Marina Abramović. The wait was worth it, but our character finds themselves contemplating the value of time, pondering whether 20 minutes – the average sitting time for most visitors – is worth the time investment. The question echoes the thoughts of those who lined up for the chance to sit opposite the artist in the original performance.
And so, we wait, occupying ourselves with other activities – as if in a real museum – until our turn to engage in the virtual silence. As we sit, we feel the familiar rhythm of our own heartbeat, an echo of Abramović's long durational performance, yet contained within the confines of our screens. And like Abramović herself, we bear the weight of our own endurance, time, and the value we place upon it.
It's an engrossing exploration, laced with moments of tension and anticipation. Perhaps this digital reinterpretation of "The Artist is Present" does justice to the original performance, or perhaps it misses the mark. But one thing is certain: it makes you think, and that's exactly what good art – and games – should do.
In this digital interpretation of "The Artist is Present," artificial-intelligence is used to simulate the experience of waiting in line at a museum, just as people did in Abramovic's original performance. After purchasing a ticket, players find themselves seated opposite a virtual Marina Abramovic, engaging in a silent, contemplative session that echoes the tension and anticipation felt during the performance. The use of technology transforms the traditional gallery setting into an interactive game, allowing players to engage with the themes of time, endurance, and value in a new way, blending art, entertainment, and social-media interactions within the digital world. Books about performance art and the role of technology in art serve as additional resources to better understand this unique fusion of artistic mediums.
