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In this excerpt from a longer interview that will be published in the upcoming TRAVELOGUE catalog, art critic and curator Valentina Tanni discusses the idiosyncrasies of the Italian art world and her passion for racing games.
Valentina Tanni will join a conversation titled CRASH: GAME AESTHETICS AND CONTEMPORARY ART on Sunday September 11 at 11:30 with Isabelle Arvers. Click here for more information. Click here to read an interview with Arvers.
Valentina Tanni, Photo courtesy of ArtTribune
Matteo Bittanti: What does an art critic and a curator like yourself consider machinima? A genre of video art? An expression of game fandom far removed from the Artworld? Or something else altogether? I am specifically thinking of artists like Jon Rafman, Cory Arcangel, Body Condon or Ian Cheng who use game aesthetics, technologies, and themes in their work but essentially navigate a contemporary art context.
Valentina Tanni: It’s always hard - and perhaps too limiting - to come up with a rigid, all-inclusive definition for artworks. Besides, I am reluctant to classify things, although I am am fully aware that, in some cases, taxonomies and classifications can be useful, especially when it comes to historicize movements or trends. The task becomes even harder in relation to such a complex practice as machinima. Machinima is imbued with so many influences. It also brings together different competencies: programming, design, screenplay, and filmmaking. The relationship between machinima and video art is strong, but perhaps its connection to cinema is even stronger. As for the role of machinima in the artworld: as far I can see, this artform is still largely misunderstood if not plainly rejected. The artists that you mentioned - especially Rafman and Arcangel - have been able to introduce their peculiar vision because they have wrapped gaming in an “artsy” conceptual architecture that makes their works understandable and even palatable to certain kind of audience. The medium of the video game is still considered a “minor art”, if not mere entertainment. Even today, entertainment is seen as something that negates art, its polar opposite. Shocking, but true. Video games are accepted in the artworld only when they are appropriated, like other bits of popular culture or advertising. But for gaming to be taken seriously, it must be “legitimized” by the intervention of the artist.
Hito Steyerl, Factory of the Sun, 2015 (Photo by Matteo Bittanti)
Matteo Bittanti: You were among the first, in Italy, to emphasize the role and function of video games within contemporary art practices thanks to your substantial critical and curatorial practice. Sadly, it seems to me that Italy has never really responded to - or even understood - this phenomenon, both on a critical and pragmatic level. I look at France and I see a country that readily embraces new ideas, tools, and aesthetics to make art. Not incidentally, France is at the forefront of machinima. The same can be said of Germany: in her writings, Hito Steyerl provides a sophisticated critical reading of game theory and also makes outstanding work that uses game aesthetics to speak about the contemporary moment. Consider Factory of the Sun, the centerpiece of the German Pavilion at the 2015 Venice Biennial - and by far, the most interesting work on display, alongside Harun Farocki’s retrospective. Italy on the other hand, often seems stuck in the 1970s… I experience a sense of cognitive dissonance when I visit most Italian art galleries or museums. It is not surprising that the vast majority of Italian artists who work/worked with video games live abroad: Eva & Franco Mattes, Paolo Pedercini, Marco Mendeni just to name a few… How do you explain this paradox?
Valentina Tanni: Unfortunately, it is not a paradox. My critical and curatorial practice - alongside the activity of few other critics and curators - has been unable to take root and find a receptive audience here in Italy, even though the effort has been outstanding, both in terms of exhibitions and publications. The Italian artworld is technologically challenged: its digital literacy is tragically low. Italy is still tied to a Romantic idea of art, where the humanities are considered disjointed from any other discipline. Here, technology is considered a threat not simply to personal expression, but to mankind as a whole. We are quickly improving on several levels, but when it comes to the relationship between art and technology, Italy lags behind the rest of Europe. Often, I find myself in the position of reminding my interlocutors that I am an art historian so that they would take my research seriously. They think that my interest for technology diminishes the intellectual rigor of my studies, because they automatically tend to equate technology with entertainment. And don’t even get me started on internet memes and amateur production...
Ian Cheng, Emissary in the Squat of Gods, 2015. Courtesy of the artist, Pilar Corrias, Standard (Oslo)
Matteo Bittanti: TRAVELOGUE investigates, among other things, the notion of virtual driving and, above all, the epistemological short-circuit caused by simulations. How do you relate to cars and games? What do you see from the windshield and on the screen?
Valentina Tanni: My relationship to video games has always been problematic. They fascinate me, but I also feel the need to distance myself from gaming. For a long time, I have a been a compulsive player. Granted, this experience enriched me on several levels. I have learned so much both about myself and video games. At the same time, however, I had to stop playing because I tend to get completely sucked in. Incidentally, one of the games I love the most is a racing game: MotorStorm Apocalypse. It is set in a post-apocalyptic metropolis. You drive your car as fast as possible in a devastated landscape populated by post-industrial ruins, crumbling skyscrapers, buildings on fire, and sinking piers. For the record, I have always sucked at these kind of games. I tend to quickly lose control of my vehicle because I get distracted by the scenery. I cannot stay focused on the road, I just want to look around and marvel at all the details. This game is an integral part of my memories. I feel as if I did take a journey somewhere, as I visited "real" places. Those environments are now part of my visualscape like the meadows of Ireland, the skyscrapers of New York, and the Nevada desert. My brain is incapable of distinguishing between the windshield of my car and the television screen… Besides, living in Rome poses additional challenges. Driving in the City is like navigating the spaces of a videogame. You must avoid the pedestrian who crosses the street when and where she feels like it, the driver that refuses to give way, ignoring the most elementary rules, the traffic cop who stops you at the last second, and the jungle of double parking...
MotorSport: Apocalypse, Evolution Studios, Sony Interactive Entertainment, 2011