What is Art? That’s a question I’ve been obsessing over for quite some time now, not only because I genuinely am curious, but also because I’m seeking validation of what I do by asking this question.
No matter what other people might say, I consider myself an artist— but even with this deeply rooted belief of mine, I cannot bring myself to say this out loud in public, because the medium that I use to express myself is not considered “art” by the general audience.
I make video games. I’ve been making them for about seven years now; that’s more than one-third of my life spent dedicated to the craftsmanship of developing and creating computer-based games, both professionally and non-professionally.
For filmmakers and writers, it would not be much of a difficulty to present themselves as artists to others, given that the medium is already established and promotes itself as a form of art. However, for game makers, it is significantly more challenging to express the same, considering that you have to convince not only others that you yourself are worthy of that title, but also whether the medium of games deserves such a title as art.
That is why I’ve been searching for the meaning of art, which I don’t think I have truly found the answer to yet. And if I don’t know its meaning, how could I ever claim something is or is not art?
I think Tarkovsky’s book, Sculpting in Time, and especially Chapter II, “Art—a yearning for the ideal,” helped me understand more about this long-held question of mine.
Of course, the book did not answer my question for me, just as Tolstoy’s What Is Art didn’t when I read it in high school. But what it did was give me another foundational stone to answer it on my own (or at least guide me closer to my own definition of it).
And speaking of Tolstoy’s What Is Art, it is very interesting to see how compatible yet contrasting Tarkovsky’s vision of art is with that of Tolstoy.
If you look at it broadly, it appears as if they share a similar set of beliefs— they both consider art as a higher (almost spiritual) form that exceeds the traditional notion of beauty, and what is important is not solely the artist’s idea of the creation, but the ability to communicate — or, as Tarkovsky puts it, the “relationship between art and its audience”— which seems to be a crucial factor in what makes art “art.” If the work fails to be accessible (i.e., fails to communicate to the audience), then it loses its meaning.
Both men seem to view art as a unifying factor that can hold something great. But the difference begins to become clear when you see what these men think of this supposed greatness.
For Tarkovsky, it is the meaning of life, and for Tolstoy, it is the key to promoting the harmony of mankind. This difference might be trivial to some, as both imply something that sounds grand. Yet it seems to me that this divides what role the artist serves in both the creation and the lifetime of an artwork.
Tarkovsky rejects the notion of an artist imposing an idea or belief on the receiver— if that were possible, the world would be a far better place. Rather, the artist’s idea or belief is communicated through the artwork and provides groundwork for self-reflection— for both the artist and the audience. A true characteristic of a masterpiece is an ideological framework that is constantly challenged. In the book, he even compares it to childbirth— and like a child, after conception, it is its own thing. To quote him, “The poet has nothing to be proud of: he is not master of the situation, but a servant.”
In contrast, Tolstoy’s idea of “true art” is very clear; art must promote wider harmony in society. The ideological framework of a work does not shift because one’s morality is permanent— that being Christianity.
However, no matter which side you look at, they both seem to be driven by the idea that art must come from a sincere place, not bound to capitalistic and consumeristic values. Modern mass culture fails to ask the crucial question of existence, and art becomes deeply spiritual and religious.
I think this is where I, sadly, have to acknowledge the fact that the current practices and processes of making games cannot escape consumeristic ideas and force creators to abandon their sincerity to please the audience.
The design process of games constantly requires you to abandon yourself in favor of popular demand. This is not only due to the fact that the game industry is heavily monetized, but also due to the pre-established purpose and the perception that good work within this medium only extends to mere entertainment.
The question of whether or not a game is art is irrelevant because it is not treated as such by the creators.