“Source Code” Exhibit Review

Another month and another review folks!  This month I went and checked out the exhibits at Modified Arts in Tempe (on the notorious “Roosevelt Row”).  There were a host of interesting works there, but the ones that stood out were those by Jon Haddock, Jason Rohrer and Paolo Pedercini.  They are all part of the Source Code exhibit on display at Modified Arts.  All these artists come from different backgrounds with differing styles, yet they all have one thing in common: they visually isolate the connection between the imaginary world of video games and the real world of gritty society they inhabit.  There is also an urge to question’s one life after viewing these works, and a voyeuristic almost omnipotent feel from looking into or even controlling the fictional lives of these digital characters.

Haddock is probably one of the most prolific and interesting, with several different works created in Photoshop 4.0, a version from the early 90’s.  No matter the audience, at least one of these pieces will personally affect the viewer.  Haddock’s images should immediately resonate a nostalgic feeling for old-school gamers, especially those who have played any of the “Sim” series, as well as nostalgia for the devastating historically iconic events he digitally paints.  Those who haven’t played the Sims can still identify what they are seeing with game graphics and must situate themselves in the mindset of these games of control.  In The Sims, one controls an entire person’s existence which mirrors the real world in most respects except for the intensely horrific aspects.  For Haddock, these aspects are part of life and history, so he asks us to rhetorically imagine a game where our darkest fears are as real as our most beloved pursuits.  For instance, his rendition of the Rodney King beating with its soft low quality graphics is almost funny until we realize that this is a deep seeded part of history.  By using this iconic image he silences the viewer’s laughter, asking us to question what effect the fuzzy unrealistic world of games has on our perception of reality.

Then there is Rohrer, who carries a similar message with his work.  The major difference between Rohrer and Haddock, however, is that Rohrer actually makes games.  In his game “Passage” there is the same element of control as before, but the control is actually realized.  Rather than view a work, we are invited to play a game. The game is created in 8bit graphics, side-scrolling style, so most players will feel nostalgia as with Haddock’s work. In “Passage” players start as a young man, find love, experience loss, and eventually die. As players move through the game, there are tiny boxes that look like chests which give magical looking stars and a timer is constantly counting as the characters grow increasingly hunched over and gray.  Eventually, however, the chests lose all of their colorful “gems” and yield nothing to the player until he slowly dies.  Rohrer calls this “memento mori” (remember you must die) and it’s as if he also asks a question: with the energy of youth one can almost feel like their caught up in a game, trying to grab all the accomplishments they can, yet in the end what is important?  For we will die.

Finally there is the work of Paolo Pedercini.  Like Rohrer, he creates a game, but with a very different style.  The graphics are done in a far more recent vector art, so there is no nostalgia for the graphics, yet the message is very similar.  The game is called “Every Day the Same Dream,” and we find ourselves playing a character who wakes up every day, drives to work, and sits in his cubicle.  Life is so mundane, so unexciting, it is almost torture just playing through the entire game.  There are subtle changes here and there, and eventually the character is asked if he’d like to end his life, such as by jumping off a building.  Most average workers can feel some sort of connection to this mundane existence, and with the suicidal thoughts at the end it may make us wonder why it is necessary that life is like this.  Are we controlled by some great gamer?  Is there a point?

"r_king" Jon Haddock

Jason Rohrer and Paolo Pedercini

I’d like to think so.