For our final project, Daniel and I are working to create a performance which is the artifact of playing a game. We want to explore the relationship between gameplay and performance by creating a game in which successfully immersive play will create a choreographed movement-based performance that can stand alone in its own right. Think of it like Dance Dance Revolution or Guitar Hero, but with a performance that is actually interesting to watch, independent of the on-screen action. The screen will probably not be visible to any audience members, just the player, which creates an interesting tension, but we’ve also discussed a desire to have the audience/player relationship be fluid, so that everyone who is watching will at some point be a player and a performer. If we do take this path, it will be interesting to see if later players are better at the game because they’ve seen the earlier performances, or if they wind up overcompensating by trying to mimic the movements before they’ve fully grasped the game.

We both agree that we’d like to see somewhat of a divorce between the actions of the game and the movements represented as performance – think Donkey Kong Jungle Beat (in which you play the congas to control a side scrolling game) as opposed to Guitar Hero or Wii Sports (in which you’re mimicking the actions you would actually be performing if you were playing guitar or tennis). While we haven’t committed to a video game as our platform, we’re definitely leaning that way precisely for this reason – it’s easier to divorce your conscious thoughts about your actions from your physical movements if you have something representational outside of your body to think about. And we specifically don’t want the player thinking about his movements from the audience’s point of view.

I’m particularly interested in this idea because of my own experiences, not just with games (which are obviously a priority for me), but with anything that requires a certain precision in movement. By forcing myself to be aware of my body from an external point of view – imagining my actions as if I were across the room, watching myself – will almost always allow me greater dexterity. Thinking about my actions as a performance for an imaginary self changes my cognitive relationship to my body and helps me to better regulate rhythm and form. When I took trapeze lessons, for example, I was flying at my best when I thought of it as a performance, rather than a series of instructions for my body to enact. That’s an extreme example, but I find myself doing similar things just walking down the street, weaving between groups of people. Whether this is just a kludge I’ve evolved as a way to control my body after spending so much time working in theater, or whether it’s something more ingrained that I might share with others, one side effect of this project could be an exploration of how the notion of performativity shapes dexterity of otherwise non-performative tasks.

I’ve also been thinking about the actions of games a lot since the whole brouhaha surrounding Manhunt 2, which some critics referred to as “a murder simulator,” particularly the Wii version of the game, which does involve performing a very rough approximation of the motions required to kill someone. While it’s hard to justify this as an actual problem worth protesting when you compare it to a performance of killing someone (which happens quite often, of course), videogames have a special position in society due to the adoption gap between generations. Would a game that caused you to perform the same motions while practicing knot-tying or petting a puppy be regarded as harshly? Of course not. But then why assume the one-to-one relationship between performative movement and real physical actions? If my conscious mind thinks I’m playing a guitar, but my silhouette looks like I’m killing someone, should that be considered violent for me? For those watching?

I hope that this project will help underline just how much of a difference there is between the two. A murder isn’t a murder when you’re actually playing guitar.

More notes on Daniel’s blog.