a recent art projec by Schuyler Maclay, Al Urim and others foregrounds the impending crisis of augmented reality. in the project Maclay and a fellow artist build a 10 by 10 by 10 foot cube, open at the top that seals them in along with a host of raw (de)construction materials. two webcams survey the cube’s interior, streaming the artists live to the web.

theopencube.net

the cube was placed on Brown University’s Main Green on May 1st, 2010. it was a part of a broad curation of outdoor art pieces comprising a second student project called “Green Screen.” the cube was one of the most successful pieces on the green, because it was big, loud, and literally/figuratively opaque. when visitors drew near the cube, they often walked completely around it, looking for something to see. instead, they were directed to a computer monitor, forcing them uncomfortably to mediate their immediate physical experience of the cube. in their desire to see inside the cube, and understand the project, visitors were forced to look away from it, into an entire different object. theoretically, this was to keep access to the cube as an artistic site consistent across experiences (online and in person) as the project was offered for the two communities of physical and virtual reality.

in practice however, these tactic forced viewers to confront the growing mediation of physical events. it suggested the capitulation of society to mediation (what guy debord would have called his “society of the spectacle”) and forced visitors to live in the world they are creating- where direct access has become impossible because of our fascination with it being “everywhere” rather than “somewhere.” the global aspiration of local events like the cube erases and ignores their position as a locality at all. the artists in the open cube are neighbors you cannot speak to, or knock on the door and say hi.

because there is no door, and they won’t speak to you.

responding only to messages and instructirons posted live on their website, the open cube artists were compelled to not make a home of their cube, but to raucously destroy it. like a gamer who shoots up his environment, shooting friends to see if they will die, and throwing a grenade at his own feet to see if he can kill himself, the avatared-artists of the open cube were forced to rip up pillows, cut a couch in half, and graffiti the walls.

then some one (pretty sure it was me) told them to cut a whole in the wall so the spectators outside could see in. this proved a terrible mistake. for once the walls were rendered porous, attention shifted away from the problematic experience/foregrounding of mediation and instead became artists-as-zoo-animals. in the future, disallowing commands for interior views other than from the webcam should be added to the project’s instructions.

it’s been a few days since i was on the main green, typing commands to my friends in the cube. but the project is still working its way through my thoughts. i think its a wonderful project to have travel, for it seems to fight travel and local specificity by aspiring to just being somewhere in the non-space of the internet, but it is somewhere, and the people that comment on it will surely change depending on its location.

who knows, maybe some people won’t want the artists to destroy themselves or the interior space. maybe they’ll ask the artists to write poetry, or take a nap, or become home-makers. and that would be quite interesting.

my dream of assassin’s creed

when my a good friend of mine first got assassin’s creed, i was enchanted by its premise. as a serious lover of medieval history, particularly the crusades, the concept of gaming a 12th century jerusalem was immediately attractive to me. when i finally saw the game, i realized that the power of its art matched the ambition of its premise: here was a vividly cinematic rendering of the historical levant. i found out more: the game featured something called a “open map”- essentially, one could take the player anywhere in the game’s world. there were no fixed paths or specific platforms with ‘painted backgrounds’ suggesting the infinitude of the space, but rather a ‘true’ sense of space, and an allowment for movement. i also discovered that the introduction to the game suggested that the “player” was actually a relative of the game’s eponymous assassin. with the help of a dangerous technology (called something like the “animagus” machine) this descendant was allowed to “play” the life of his genetic origins. gaming your DNA so to speak. how cool! finally, i could not escape the thought that assassin’s creed had a fascinating reflection on contemporary society. at a time in which the west was again at war in the middle east, how provocative was it for a major game publisher (ubisoft) to make a game about the crusades? except of course, that this was not a game that glorified crusaders, but rather a game that lauded their most elite and elusive foes- foes that had more to do with suicide bombers than marines. in short, i found the choice of making a million or so western kids play assassins strikingly bizarre, but highly suggestive.

this is not the game i played

the game that i played was not nearly as profound and inspiring as the console version had been. in place of vivid graphics i found myself in a medieval flea circus, moving a tiny postage stamp character over goofy obstacle courses. instead of a “open map,” i moved along tedious “levels” journeying from left to right, and never straying far to the top or bottom of the screen. i was in an ant farm version of assassins creed.

produced by “gameloft” for ubisoft, this port of Assassin’s Creed could be considered an original game. it’s full title is “assassin’s creed: altair’s chronicles” and according to the game’s box, it is a “prequel” to the console version. whatever that means.

in fact, “altair’s chronicles” is really like assassin’s creed: the mini game. sure it is ostensibly in the same game world, and it aspires to the same premise (templars are evil, assassins are good) as the original, but in point of fact the game is really something like “the complete works of william shakespeare (abridged)” or the “1-minute titanic,” a satire of reduction.

hoping that this game would allow me to dig into the glory of assassin’s creed on my new ds was completely idiotic. a friend correctly responded to my complaints: “zack, what did you expect? it was designed for xbox and ps3!” i should have thought about that more thoroughly, as it forces me to confront the meaning of the medium. though “game content” may be translated to any platform, playing a game like assassin’s creed on the ds would be like watching ben hur on an iPod, it simply misses the point. and so, while i must tip my hat to the game designers who enabled my assassin’s creed habit, i must berate them for not knowing better than i did. why would someone reduce titles that require immersion and graphic power and serious computation to sketches that fit in a smaller platform. playing this game makes me realize why professor layton & the curious village works so well. the ds is a platform of intimacy- it is for games that seek individuals, and challenge them. ds games must be designed to capitalize on this intimacy- to tell stories through simple, vivid animations, and keep gameplay visible not microscopic. ds games must be the short stories of game literature, which is not to say that they will be weaker, but instead more potent in their simplicity.