I’m preemptively numbering this bit because I’m sure I’ll come back to it again.

My expensive hobby of choice is Magic: the Gathering. Most people have an expensive hobby, and usually just the one. Football games, concerts, cars, whisky, Warhammer 40k, Magic: the Gathering; all of these cost money to have fun, but it’s worth it. Recently, I’ve become more observant of every part of the card, and this has lead to a greater appreciation of the game.

In order to continue, I feel like a primer of Magic might be in order. If you want to learn how to play, this video is a silly, technically accurate summary, and this video is a shorter, more official version. If you don’t necessarily want to learn, that’s fine. Take a look at this example card here.

Each part of the card is important, but for when you play the game, some parts are more important. For example, the top-right corner is the cost, just like at the store. The more stuff is up there, the more resources is costs. The bottom-right corner is how big this card is once you have paid the cost to have it. These are both pretty important. Things that are not very important to gameplay include the artwork, the name (top-left), and the flavor text (the stuff in the lower box in italics). However, if all that mattered was the cost and size, why put the art and the name on the card? Just call it Flying Guy and knock off for lunch.

But the art matters. Each expansion to this game takes place in a defined world, with characters and stories. Some of those characters are larger than life, and their stories shape the world around them. Some of those characters are like this Suntail Hawk: just a part of the world, but how they interact with the world defines them both. A few years ago, Magic’s expansion was set in the gothic horror world of Innistrad for the second time, and the stories in the cards were excellent.

A few things about Innistrad. The world was designed to be Humans vs Bela Lugosi’s Greatest Hits. There’s vampires, werewolves, zombies, and ghosts, and the humans are beset on all sides. In order to denote the changing nature of werewolves through gameplay, as well as other important changes, Magic introduced double-faced cards. Instead of having the uniform card back like every card game has, some cards had two fronts. Through gameplay, these cards could turn over, transforming from one side to the other, but remaining the same creature.

The art for the werewolves had to show that it was the same entity from front to back, but that their transformation was affecting their world. For example, here’s Hinterland Logger. On her front, she’s a beefy human with some splintered logs. This makes sense; she’s a logger, after all. But if we look to her flavor text below the art, we see an anecdote about how she refused to buy axes. That’s odd. When she transforms to her other side, we see the secret to her logging: she’s a massive werewolf that rumbles through the trees. The flavor text now refers to the axes as “inferior”, and I’d believe her.

Two other strong werewolves: Breakneck Rider (both a pun about being a Neck Breaker as a werewolf, and you can see the horse he was riding dead on the ground) and Village Messenger (he has some bad news, and the news is he’s coming to get you).

On the second visit to Innistrad, there was a new threat. Gothic horror was being invaded by Lovecraftian horror. Tentacles and mind intrusion everywhere. It settled into the werewolves quite nicely. After all, they were prone to changing forms; what’s a few extra tentacles and body horror? Originally, the werewolves could turn back into humans, but these new werewolves, once possessed by tentacles, could not change back. Kessig Prowler is the best example of this. The flavor text tells the story in two sentences, and the art makes it very clear that something has gone wrong.

There’s so much more art and story to talk about. I’ve got a list as long as the video game to-do list. If anyone reads this, what’s your favorite Magic story-in-a-card? If you don’t play Magic, what are other places that have little contained stories like this?

Time to take a break from video games, and move onto another thing I like: movies. There’s a lot of ground to cover here as well, so I’ll try and stick to a specific topic each time. No guarantees.

If you have a copy of The Dark Knight Rises, pop it into your player and watch two scenes: when Batman and Bane first meet and have a bit of a punch-up, and near the end when (spoilers) there’s a big fight and Batman and Bane have a bit of a punch-up. If you don’t have a copy, or you’d rather just watch clips, here’s clip #1 and clip #2.

What was the difference between those clips? Batman wins in one and loses in the other, but there’s something more subtle than that. There’s no music in the first clip, and that does a lot for the mood. Music goes a long way to increasing drama during movie scenes. The lack of music makes that first fight feel real. After all, real life doesn’t have a soundtrack. It’s easier to imagine these two superpeople punching each other for real because of the music choices.

Sometimes, the music is part of the movie. Usually, you see this in musicals or Disney movies, like Moana. I’m partial to We Know the Way as an example of integrated music used to raise spirits. But music can take your emotions in multiple directions. For example, this song from Return of the King is not intended to raise spirits. A hobbit put into an uncomfortable position, a ruler who cares more about his next meal than his own children, and his son who knows that he rides to his death. Of those three, the son’s part in this story is silent. All around him, the sound continues, but his cry to battle is not heard. It’s powerful stuff, and takes place over one minute.

The best way to use music in a film, especially a franchise, is to have a strong main song. It’s recognizable, you can have movements that modify that melody to fit the mood at any point, and it can stay with a film through multiple movies. At this point, I’ll just link a bunch of main themes that fit this bill.

• Avengers by Alan Silvestri
• Wonder Woman by Rupert Gregson-Williams
• The Dark Knight by Hans Zimmer
• Pirates of the Caribbean by Hans Zimmer
• Inception by Hans Zimmer (OK, I’ll take a break from Zimmer)
• Star Wars, The Imperial March (Star Wars), Duel of the Fates (Star Wars), Harry Potter, Indiana Jones, The Olympics (he didn’t write the original music, but he made it more orchestral), Jurassic Park, Superman, all by John Williams

There’s more, of course. What movie music do you find especially cool, or heartwarming, or emotional?

Last week, I talked about video games as art. This week, the metaphors are coming out in force, because I’m taking you back to school for an art history lesson. Don’t worry, it won’t take very long, and if I’m being honest, it won’t be too in-depth. But there are similarities between video game history and art history, and I think it’s fascinating.

Art historians believe that art began with cave paintings tens of thousands of years ago. Early cave paintings depicted animals, drawn with simple pigments such as berries or mud and using branches as brushes, if they weren’t drawn literally by hand. Despite the relatively simple nature of these drawings, their forms are easily recognizable. I can only imagine what the first attempts at drawing a water buffalo looked like. There was no art teacher to show these ancient artists how to paint.

At this point, I’d like you to head over to ponggame.org and play one round of Pong. You can play more, or practice, but the discussion works best if you play one game. Win or lose, you can keep reading after the game is done.

Done? Good. The middle schoolers generally didn’t win their game of Pong. In fact, usually half of the students didn’t know how to play Pong, which was exactly what I wanted to get across. Pong is one of the first video games, and definitely one of the first major successful games. The designers did not have instruction on how to program their game. The students did not get instruction on how to play Pong. Pong is an ancestor of modern games, and it was created by hand compared to all the education and training that go into modern games. Pong is the early cave painting of video games.

I specified “early” cave painting because cave paintings evolved. Historically, cave paintings existed for thousands of years before paintings depicting humans appeared. Cave paintings existed for so long; which person decided to draw a person? Who was that innovator? Whoever they were, it was a big change, allowing early artists to show not only hunted animals, but the hunters themselves.

It’s time for another game break. This time, webpacman.com is your target. While you may be crazy good at Pac-man, I’d like you to play just the first level. If you lose all your lives, that’s OK. If you get to level 2, pat yourself on the back and come back here. You can go for the Level 256 kill screen afterwards.

Pac-man is still an ancestor to modern games, but there’s something different about it compared to the games that came before it, especially Pong. Pac-man is in color; before it, Pong, Space Invaders, and Asteroids were all very popular, but they had a limited color palette. The designers of Pac-man didn’t know that they were setting out to create the single most recognizable video game in history. They didn’t know they were breaking new ground, just like cave painters didn’t know that they were starting something new by drawing a person. Pac-man is the later cave painting of video games.

From here, art history moves at a clip, with far too many innovations. Some of them have video game parallels, like 3D graphics and chiaroscuro. But at this juncture in the workshop, I had to find some way to plow through a lot of art history at once. The secret was a Greek temple. Historians can tell it’s a Greek temple not just because it’s in Greece, because some of them aren’t in Greece. The style of the columns, the specific design in the triangle above the columns, even the number of columns indicate which society designed the temple, or which society influenced the architect.

Unfortunately, I don’t have a good free game for you to play. But if you’re reading this, you probably have video games laying around. Boot up a game from a major franchise and play it for a few minutes. While you do, think about what elements of the game, besides the name and possible iconic characters, indicate that this game is part of that franchise. If you don’t have a game like that, here’s some Super Mario World gameplay. I can’t guarantee it’s safe for work or kids, but it is entertaining.

Game franchises are like artistic movements. People who know games can tell if a game is from a certain franchise. Mario, Zelda, Kirby, Metroid, Halo, Gears of War, Uncharted, Ratchet & Clank, Madden, NBA 2k, Street Fighter, Mortal Kombat, etc. You don’t need to see the name of the game to recognize any of these titles.

I’ve been writing more for this article than any of my previous posts, and there’s still more I could talk about. I’ll end it with my list of “games I don’t have or are too complicated for students to play but everyone should play anyways”, and a call for responses. How do you believe games parallel art history? Is there an example game I should look into?

The List:

• Metroid Prime 2: Echoes (and all Metroid games in general)
• Psychonauts
• Ikaruga
• Jet Set Radio Future (and the other Jet Set Radio games)
• Prince of Persia: Sands of Time
• Portal
• Shadow of the Colossus
• Undertale

This is the first post of the Exploration topic, so it deserves a quick introduction. In Exploration posts, I delve deeper into something I already enjoy. I’ll try to come at it from a different angle, or from a specific perspective.

While I worked as the Youth Outreach Coordinator at Metropolitan State University, I had the opportunity to run workshops for middle schoolers. I knew immediately that I wanted to give those students an experience they wouldn’t get from middle school, or even from a traditional college classroom. So I knuckled down and took a look at my major (art) and my interest (video games) and how to combine the two.

At this point, I need to make a list for myself of topics that I want to look at specifically, much like Extra Credits does. Extra Credits is a group of industry professionals that, like me, take deeper looks into video games and why they are important, but unlike me, they are actual video game professionals. I hope to one day have half of the content they do. Anyways, here’s a smattering of specific topics I want to talk about one day:

• Video Game/Art History
• Why Mario was good
• Why Portal was good
• Why Undertale was good
• Why Bastion (the game, not the Overwatch character) made me cry
• Why Bastion (the Overwatch character) made me almost cry
• Why Mass Effect 3 made everyone mad
• My favorite video game music
• My favorite video games

And that’s just video game topics. This doesn’t include movies, music, art, Magic: the Gathering, and craft sodas.

OK, back to art and video games. I crafted this workshop to show that video games were art, and that video game history paralleled art history. Today, I’ll cover the first part (video games as art) and next week, I’ll tackle Video Game/Art History.

Art is creative expression of human effort, usually admired for its beauty, but not always, and usually visual, but not always. Among the artistic mediums, many stand out. Traditional art like painting and sculpture are good examples, but movies, books, and music are all artistic in their own way. Video games are expressions of human effort, and they are usually creative. Are they art?

The sticking point I found was “usually admired for its beauty”. Very few Madden or NBA 2k players play those games because of the beautiful graphics. They play them for enjoyment, and because marketing practices have convinced them to purchase the latest version of the game that has the best graphics. But that’s fine. Not all art is beautiful to everyone. Video games can be appreciated for other factors.

Video games can tell a good story, but in a way that other mediums cannot. Even choose-your-own-adventure books have their limitations; Undertale and Doki Doki Literature Club are two recent examples of games using choices as a game mechanic in ways that movies and books cannot hope to match. And the story doesn’t have to end positively. Both Undertale and DDLC, as well as Spec Ops: The Line, have endings where the player is meant to contemplate serious subjects, much like classic tragedies or thrillers.

Video games can entertain through interaction. They are unique in that the player is a part of the action. Theater plays and screenings of Rocky Horror Picture Show have elements of interaction, but the show will continue even without audience participation. Video games require a player; they need to be played to function as intended.

Video games can be beautiful, and in different ways. Far Cry games have incredible graphics. Portal has a very clean, simple design. Thomas Was Alone uses rectangles to paint a vivid picture. VVVVVV combines nostalgia for the original video game consoles, and Cuphead takes that nostalgia back to Steamboat Willie. I could list games that have high artistic merit until I’m blue in the face, but thankfully, someone has done it for me, and they have a lot more experience.

The Modern Museum of Art in New York has a permanent collection of video games, many of which are playable. Portal is on display, as well as many others that are beautiful not just visually, but also from a design perspective. When I (eventually) take a vacation to Washington, DC to visit the National Gallery, I’m going to take the train into New York to check out the MoMA.

Thanks for sticking with me through this first cursory look at video games and art. If anyone out there reads this, I’d love to hear what you think. Why do you like video games? Do you agree or disagree that video games are an art form? What video games do you appreciate on an artistic level?

Tune in next week, when I explain how Pong is a cave painting.