11 executions

ARTICLE: LIMITED VIEWS. ON HUGO ARCIER’S FPS

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Currently on display at VRAL is Ghost City, Hugo Arcier’s groundbreaking 2016 video installation, which, until now, has never been exhibited online. After discussing 11 Executions and the Limbus series, we conclude our examination of Arcier’s game-based works with FPS (2016). 

Alongside 11 Executions, FPS is one of Hugo Arcier’s most thought-provoking game-based installations. This interactive piece – which debuted in 2016 in the context of the Fantômes numériques exhibition at Plateforme Paris – is accompanied by a soundtrack by Stéphane Rives and Frédéric Nogray, also known as The Imaginary Soundscapes.

As most readers will likely know, FPS is the acronym of First-Person Shooter, a genre of video games that emerged in the United States at the beginning of the 1990s. Early examples include Wolfenstein 3D (1991) and Doom (1993) both developed by id Software, a company from Mesquite, Texas. For those who are unfamiliar with FPSs, suffice to say that these games are presented from the visual perspective of the avatar: the player views the game world as if through their character’s eyes. The primary gameplay element involves shooting and combat from this first-person perspective. Players must aim and shoot enemies and opponents using a variety of guns and weapons, which occupy the center of the screen. The pace and gameplay is fast, intense, and action-packed. FPS games tend to have a strong focus on reflexes and hand-eye coordination. The competitive element is a major component in most FPS games, which are known for immersive visual and audio experiences that make the player feel part of the world and action. Common elements include detailed graphics, surround sound, and realistic physics. In short, the FPS is a quintessentially USA-centric video game genre: the fact that a society that venerates weapons created an entire genre of techno-violence celebrating gun culture as a playful pastime makes perfect sense.

It should come as no surprise, then, that the FPS is also one of the most criticized genres of video games. They have been accused of promoting real life violence and aggression, usually by opportunistic, bi-partisan politicians funded by the weapon-industry, represented by the National Rifle Association. For instance, it is ironic that both Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump suggest the existence of a strong link between simulated violence and real life violence against all scientific evidence. Nonetheless, it is indisputable that the core mechanics of most FPS games involve shooting and killing, often in graphic ways. This has led to concerns that they are making violence seem mundane and potentially desensitizing players, perhaps an even more pernicious side effect than instigating aggression. Moreover, FPS games tend to prioritize action and combat over storytelling and character development. This had led some to criticize them as glorifying violence for its own sake. In terms of representation, many FPS games have been accused of promoting problematic stereotypes by depicting enemies from specific real-world groups, regions, or ethnicities. This kind of problematic representation also extends to women: female characters have often been underrepresented or depicted in sexualized ways in FPS games. The FPS has been accused of feeding hyper-masculine power fantasies. Moreover, some argue that the emphasis on the subjective view of the FPS is not purely visual, but ideological. For this reason, FPS games have been accused of promoting a limited perspective centered around the player character, rather than allowing for a diverse range of points of view. Additionally, the fast pace and visceral nature of FPS gameplay allows little time for empathy, reflection or consideration of consequences of violence. Their addictive qualities have also come under attack: FPS games are designed to keep players engaged, which has led to warnings about these games promoting addictive tendencies, especially in children. Finally, competitive online multiplayer FPS games are often plagued by aggressive behavior, bullying, and discrimination in chat/voice communications between players. The term “toxic” is usually cited in these debates. For these – and other – reasons, the FPS genre is considered…

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Matteo Bittanti


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VIDEO: HUGO ARCIER’S SYNTHETIC INTERVIEW

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Currently on display at VRAL is Ghost City Hugo Arcier’s groundbreaking 2016 video installation, which, until now, has never been exhibited online. To celebrate this event, we embark on an exploration of three works by the French artist that explicitly reference, or even appropriate, video game aesthetics and mechanics. Our exploration began on July 20 with 11 Executions, a machinima released in 2016.

We are happy to share an interview with French Artist Hugo Arcier originally produced for Game Video/Art. A Survey at IULM University during the XXI International Exhibition of the Triennale di Milano between April the 2d to September the 12th 2016. In this candid conversation, Arcier discusses his influences, style, and concerns. 11 Executions was presented within the context of the exhibition.

Read more about 11 Executions

ESSAY: ELEPHANTS IN THE ROOM

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Currently on display at VRAL is Ghost City, Hugo Arcier’s groundbreaking 2016 video installation, which, until now, has never been exhibited online. To celebrate this event, we embark on an exploration of three works by the French artist that explicitly reference, or even appropriate, video game aesthetics and mechanics. Our exploration begins with 11 Executions, a machinima released in 2016. This article is an abridged version of a longer essay which will be featured in an upcoming book.

Paying homage to Alan Clarke’s controversial Elephant (1989), 11 Executions (2015) was released shortly after a series of devastating terrorist attacks struck Paris in November 2015, resulting in significant loss of life and widespread fear and panic in the city. 

Before delving into the machinima, it is essential to contextualize the source material, or more precisely, its main inspiration. Clarke’s televised experiment Elephant, which runs for approximately 39 minutes and was initially broadcast on BBC 2, presents a minimalist and unflinching portrayal of sectarian violence during the “Troubles”, a term used to indicate an extended and violent period of conflict in Northern Ireland spanning from the late 1960s to the late 1990s, characterized by the involvement of diverse ethno-nationalist and political factions within the region, as well as the British government and security forces.

Elephant adopts a distinctive and peculiar style characterized by a series of continuous, static, and observational takes. Devoid of conventional dialogue or narrative plot, the short provides a chilling and evocative visual representation of the pervasive but often overlooked violence that afflicted Northern Ireland for decades. The title draws from the well-known idiom “the elephant in the room,” denoting an obvious yet significant problem that individuals prefer to avoid discussing or even recognizing. In this particular context, the symbolic elephant underscores the omnipresence of violence in the region, arising from the longstanding tensions between the predominantly Protestant unionist community, advocating for Northern Ireland continued union with the United Kingdom, and the predominantly Catholic nationalist community, aspiring to achieve a united and independent Ireland, free from British rule.

In Arcier’s 11 Executions, the emulation of Elephant’s style, approach, and duration is explicit. Arcier’s portrayal involves presenting a sequence of senseless crimes without providing any context or background, thus leaving the viewers to construct their own interpretations. The artist’s underlying intention was to compel the audience to confront the sheer brutality and meaninglessness depicted in a series of vignettes, which were crafted by appropriating elements from the popular video game Grand Theft Auto V (2013). With a conscious decision to eliminate any narrative frame, Arcier deliberately refrained from identifying or contextualizing the perpetrators and victims alike. Moreover, the sound design, encompassing ambient sounds, fragments of conversation, and more, intensifies the viewer's unease. The sudden, jarring gunshots, accompanied by chilling screams, further contribute to a profound and pervasive sense of discomfort experienced throughout the viewing experience.

The machinima’s observational and detached style not only heightens the atmosphere of tension and fear but also renders it a discomforting experience for the audience. However, the graphic portrayal of violence paradoxically induces a numbing effect, where the random killings eventually become a routine, an expected part of the viewing experience after the initial ten minutes, manifesting a relatively quick progression from shock to desensitization. 11 Executions assumes multiple roles simultaneously, functioning as a commentary on the representation of violence within video games, an exercise in remediation, and a sui generis remake of Clarke’s Elephant among other things. Although it diverges significantly in terms of locale, characters, and situations depicted, 11 Executions remains perfectly aligned with the source material in terms of mood, style, and pacing...

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Matteo Bittanti

Worlds cited

Hugo Arcier, 11 Executions, digital video (1920 x 1080), color, sound, 36”, 2015, France

Rémy Belvaux, Andé Bonzel, Benoît Poelvoorde, Man Bites Dog, feature film, color, sound, 95”, 1992, Belgium

Alan Clarke, Elephant, color, sound, 16 mm, teleplay, 39”, 1989, United Kingdom

Gus van Sant, Elephant, United States, feature film, color, sound, 81”, 2003, United States


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