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Can AI-Powered Games Actually Teach Anthropology? _My wife teaches high school history and, like many educators, is deeply worried about AI's impact on her students' academic lives. It’s a source of constant conversation—I’m no AI-optimist, but I’m far more rosy about the possibilities of the technology than she is. She laments that teachers weren’t brought into the 2022 release of ChatGPT, and that it was foisted upon educators without warning or care. And now administrations everywhere are pushing AI as the future of her field, again with very little input from actual practitioners._ _I assure her, “Just wait until academics figure out the best way to use LLMs.” She justifiably rolls her eyes. I’m not moving the goalposts, of course, I’m just waiting. So, finding the work of Michael Peter Hoffman, hopefully, will tip the rhetorical balance in my favor._ _Hoffman is a researcher who occupies an unusual position at the intersection of two disciplines that rarely speak to each other. By day, he builds and evaluates AI models at the Leibniz-Rechenzentrum, one of Germany's premier supercomputing centers in Munich. By training, he is an anthropologist who spent three to four years doing fieldwork in Nepal and India—studying debt-bonded laborers in the lowlands of Western Nepal, visiting brick kilns and construction sites, and descending into a sand mine where hundreds of families dug and sold sand while a whole economy churned invisibly around them. It was in that sand mine, he says, that the idea first struck him: the stories he was gathering were extraordinary, but the academic monographs that would contain them would reach almost no one._ _His solution is what he calls an "Anthrogame"—a game that conveys anthropological knowledge with ethnographic thickness. In a series of papers beginning in 2024, Hoffman and his collaborators at Freie Universität Berlin fed Bronislaw Malinowski's_ Argonauts of the Western Pacific, _a standard Anthro 101 text,_ _into a Large Language Model and produced an “AI-native” text adventure where players step into the role of a fieldworker arriving on the islands, Malinowski’s academic advisor, or Malinowski himself._ _The results were promising and imperfect: the AI struggled with biographical depth, tended toward monotonic responses over extended play, and was susceptible to hallucination. But it also generated genuine curiosity. Many who playtested the game were surprised to find themselves drawn into a world they'd never encountered. Anthropologists, predictably the harshest critics, still wanted to try it in their classrooms._ _What follows is a conversation about why anthropology may be the original worldbuilding discipline, why game makers have been reluctant to set their work in real cultures rather than fictional ones, and what it means to translate a text—already a translation of a life world—into something you can play._ [Listen to the longer podcast with Michael] * * * **_JAMIN WARREN: How did you make your way to artificial intelligence as an anthropologist? Was your background as an anthropologist first, or were you already interested in the technology?_** MICHAEL HOFFMAN: AI is something I started very early. When I was 16, 17, I started programming and worked on little games—board games, actually. I started out as a computer scientist in Munich, and from there went into anthropology to study something different. **_JW: When you're explaining what an anthropologist does to someone who's not familiar with the field, what's the dinner party definition?_** MH: An anthropologist goes to another setting—usually further away—and you dive into a culture for at least 12 months, to get a whole yearly cycle. In my case, I went to Western Nepal, to a town called Tikapur. I studied the lives, politics, and economics of former debt-bonded laborers. You describe these systems, and it's a translation process. _JW: I can understand the appeal of games as a medium for this—many of them put you in a different place, in a different time, and expect you to make your way there. As you noted in your papers, there is a history of in-game anthropologies, applying anthropological tools as virtual worlds come to resemble human societies. For a skeptic, what is the value of doing that?_ MH: My take is that anthropologists should make video games. There are hardly any who have done it, because game-making is really hard. But not everyone has the fortune to dive into another culture. Games could be a way to give people a chance to experience such settings. AI-generated scene from the game ’Malinowski’s Lens’ , Bronislaw Malinowski with natives on Trobriand Islands; between October 1917 and October 1918 _JW: How are you defining the term "Anthrogame"?_ MH: An Anthrogame conveys cultural knowledge and anthropological insights to an audience who wants to play it. The key characteristic is that it's "ethnographically thick"—a term anthropologists use. You want to describe a culture not superficially but in depth. If you can convey that thick writing into a game, it becomes an Anthrogame. _JW: Game genres are usually focused on mechanics—is it a first-person shooter, is it a platformer, etc. As a result, you end up with less experimentation on the setting. Games have a history of doing history, at least, partly from the legacy of tabletop roleplaying and wargaming. But stepping into a real culture and experiencing it—that's not a place games have spent much time. Why do you think game makers have stayed away from that?_ MH: If you want to do this seriously, you have to dive into a culture first, and _that takes a long time._ Fictional games give you more freedom—you're not constrained by reality. With an anthropological game, you should ground it in the reality of the society and be respectful towards the community you're representing. It's also a double translation—anthropological books are already one anthropologist's subjective view, and then you translate that again into a game. _JW: What compelled you to create AI-driven games for a teaching context?_ MH: It started out of a frustration. I spent three to four years doing fieldwork in Nepal and India, and when you write your work up, you write it for a limited academic audience. Reading is in decline, let's be honest. I'm not saying this should replace reading—I'm a big fan of books—but this could be an appetizer. You play it for a bit, you get interested, and then you start to read the book. _JW: Walk me through developing the game. You chose interactive fiction as the format—how do you go from the text to something playable?_ MH: When there was the ChatGPT, I thought something like _The Oregon Trail_ would be a good start in a very easy way. If you want to turn Malinowski's book into a 3D game, you have to produce assets that look like the Trobriands, and you won't find that on the Unity Store. So stay without graphics first, then go toward the hard parts. My day job is at a Supercomputing Center in Germany building AI models, so it's an interesting way to apply that off-hours. Sample prompt generated the game world _JW: "AI-powered game" has become this term that gets thrown around. When you say "AI-native game," what does that mean functionally in terms of how the game expresses itself?_ The text gets fed into a Large Language Model through a Retrieval Augmented Generation technique. That means you force the LLM to really **just** read from the book. The output is a short description of a scene, and then you have different scene choices, and you can pick them. It's like a _Dungeons & Dragons_ setting where the LLM is the dungeon master and creates the scenes, and then you are stepping into the role of the anthropologist. You also have an open input field—instead of these three options, you could say whatever. Like _, go to the center of the island or try to go to a canoe and go to the next island._ The advantage is that every game is different. Once you build such a structure, you could theoretically do it with a whole different range of anthropological books or historical books. _JW: With students playing the game, was there a particular interaction that stood out—something the game revealed in the play structure that was a sign you were moving in the right direction?_ MH: Students tried very quickly to find a shortcut to solve the four quests. That was surprising for me, and also refreshing—they took a gamer's approach and tried to hack it. _JW: Yeah, that happens._

Anthropologist Michael Hoffman uses AI to transform ethnographic fieldwork into playable text adventures, bridging the gap between academic research and accessible learning.

13.02.2026 01:01 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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He Fed a Classic Anthropology Text To Make An AI Game. Here's What Happened. In 1922, Bronislaw Malinowski’s _Argonauts of the Western Pacific_ changed anthropology forever, introducing the world to "thick description" and the rigors of deep fieldwork. A century later, researcher Michael Hoffman is bringing that text into the future. In this episode, Jamin Warren sits down with Hoffman—a computer scientist and anthropologist at one of Germany’s premier supercomputing centers—to discuss his creation of the "Anthrogame." By feeding classic ethnographic texts into Large Language Models, Hoffman has built a playable Dungeon Master version of Trobriand society, where players navigate the complex social and economic rituals of the South Pacific. We explore the intersection of worldbuilding and fieldwork, the frustration of academic reach, and whether AI can turn dense monographs into "appetizers" that make us more curious about the real world. Is anthropology the original worldbuilding discipline? And why haven't game designers tapped into the "thick description" of real cultures? **Host:** Jamin Warren **Guest:** Michael Hoffman (Leibniz-Rechenzentrum) * (00:00) - Introduction: The Decline of Reading * (00:27) - Anthropology and AI: A New Frontier * (01:27) - Michael Hoffman's Journey * (02:40) - The Intersection of Anthropology and Game Design * (28:57) - Cultural Representation in Pedagogy * (29:33) - Malinowski and the Argonauts of the Western Pacific * (34:47) - Developing an AI-Powered Text Adventure Game * (46:22) - Challenges and Future of AI in Anthropology Hosted by Jamin Warren. Music by Nick Sylvester. Subscribe to Killscreen for unlimited access to Jamin's writing and the archive at killscreen.com, member-exclusive newsletters and events. I love hearing from you! Email your questions and thoughts to info@killscreen.com Please consider supporting independent media! **★ Support this podcast ★** #### What is The Killscreen Podcast? Jamin Warren founded Killscreen as well as Gameplayarts, an organization dedicated to the education and practice of game-based arts and culture. He has produced events such as the Versions conference for VR arts and creativity, in partnership with NEW INC. Warren also programmed the first Tribeca Games Festival, the groundbreaking Arcade at the Museum of Modern Art, and the Kill Screen Festival, which Mashable called "the TED of videogames." Additionally, he has served as an advisor for the Museum of Modern Art's design department, acted as cluster chair for the Gaming category for the Webbys, and hosted Game/Show for PBS Digital Studios.








In 1922, Bronislaw Malinowski’s Argonauts of the Western Pacific changed anthropology forever, introducing the world to "thick description" and the rigors of deep fieldwork. A century later, researcher Michael Hoffman is bringing that text into the future.

In this episode, Jamin Warren […]

13.02.2026 01:01 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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What Happens When You Preserve Your Games While You're Still Making Them? <h2 id="simon-flesser-sits-in-his-malm%C3%B6-studio-surrounded-by-15-years-of-digital-ghosts">Simon Flesser sits in his Malmö studio, surrounded by 15 years of digital ghosts. </h2><p>Behind him, I spy the unmistakable presence of a hulking phonograph, the iPhone of the 19th century. It's a curious choice, and for someone who has spent the entirety of their professional career making games in digital environments, the reminder of a once-passed technology sums up their current focus: preserving their own past. </p><p>Late last year, Simogo–a creative partnership between Flesser and Gordon Gardebäck—released its <a href="https://simogo.com/work/simogolegacycollection/" rel="noreferrer">Legacy Collection</a>, porting seven iOS games to modern platforms. It may seem quaint, but if you bought an iPhone and were around to launch the App Store in its earliest incarnations, there was an amazingly rich period of game-making in those late aughts. It's understandable that you would want to bring some of that work into a modern context. But this isn't a typical remaster.</p><p>I've been thinking about preservation lately, working on a project with the Getty Research Institute. <a href="https://gehry.getty.edu/" rel="noreferrer">They did something for the 20th anniversary of Disney Concert Hall</a>—Frank Gehry's archive is remarkable, all these scale models and photographs documenting the building's evolution. It made me wonder: is there something about games that doesn't lend itself to that kind of personal archiving the way architecture or graphic design does?</p><figure class="kg-card kg-image-card kg-card-hascaption"><img src="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/2026/02/image.png" class="kg-image" alt="" loading="lazy" width="1600" height="1200" srcset="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w600/2026/02/image.png 600w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w1000/2026/02/image.png 1000w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/2026/02/image.png 1600w" /><figcaption><span style="white-space:pre-wrap">Still from interview with Frank Gehry for </span><a href="https://gehry.getty.edu/"><span style="white-space:pre-wrap">Sculpting Harmony</span></a><span style="white-space:pre-wrap"> archival project for the Getty.</span></figcaption></figure><h2 id="why-digital-games-are-harder-to-preserve-than-physical-art">Why Digital Games Are Harder to Preserve Than Physical Art</h2><p>Flesser acknowledges the paradox. Digital files <em>should</em> be easier to preserve than physical artifacts, yet shifting platforms and proprietary ecosystems make games more ephemeral than sketches or models. Unlike architects who archive scale models, fashion designers who maintain pattern libraries, or musicians' collections of demos, game makers rarely build preservation into their practice. There's less detritus, fewer drawers to store work in. The archive must be actively maintained, or it simply disappears.</p><p>What Simogo built addresses their past differently. Flesser and his collaborators created a virtual phone interface for Switch and PC, complete with simulated motion controls and dual-cursor touch mechanics. There's something really poignant about this virtual phone—I played it on the Switch—because I'm "holding" a device that I spent thousands of hours pouring over that no longer exists. You can stretch, pull, pinch, and zoom just as you once did. The Legacy collection preserves the relationship between your hand and the screen of yesteryear, and novelty rushes back in a flood. "For us, how do we make a system where we could show the pixels exactly as they were?" he explains. </p><figure class="kg-card kg-image-card kg-width-full kg-card-hascaption"><img src="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/2026/02/Simogo-Quote-Card.png" class="kg-image" alt="" loading="lazy" width="2000" height="1000" srcset="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w600/2026/02/Simogo-Quote-Card.png 600w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w1000/2026/02/Simogo-Quote-Card.png 1000w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w1600/2026/02/Simogo-Quote-Card.png 1600w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/2026/02/Simogo-Quote-Card.png 2160w" /><figcaption><span style="white-space:pre-wrap">Still from </span><i><em class="italic" style="white-space:pre-wrap">The</em></i> <i><em class="italic" style="white-space:pre-wrap">Sailor's Dream </em></i><span style="white-space:pre-wrap">(2014)</span></figcaption></figure><p>The approach stands in deliberate opposition to how most games handle their history. Franchises like <em>Resident Evil</em> and <em>Halo</em> rebuild from the ground up—polishing graphics, modernizing controls—to chase what players remember. The purpose is to evoke an affective response in players–the feeling of what it would have been to boot up a PlayStation or Xbox. Simogo is committed to a different project entirely: preservation as fidelity. "We would always have to say, 'No, actually this needs to be exactly as they were when they released.'" The distinction matters. Remasters capture games as you remember them. Preservation captures them as they are.</p><h3 id="what-does-it-mean-to-author-a-game">What Does It Mean to "Author" a Game?</h3><p></p><p>As a result, you get a unique view into what sustained authorship looks like in games. That continuity matters to me because games struggle with authorship in ways other media don't. Big-budget releases involve hundreds of people coming and going; there's rarely a singular voice. Moreover, games in recent decades have grown to an enormous scale, and unlike film, which has a long history of individual contributions (which is why the Oscars have so many categories), games pass through the hands of hundreds across corporate landscapes that can span years. The history of games is rife with game designers who ship a signature title but fail to build a long career, let alone one that you could identify as distinctly their own. </p><figure class="kg-card kg-gallery-card kg-width-wide"><div class="kg-gallery-container"><div class="kg-gallery-row"><div class="kg-gallery-image"><img src="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-7.jpg" width="2000" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="" srcset="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w600/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-7.jpg 600w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w1000/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-7.jpg 1000w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w1600/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-7.jpg 1600w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w2400/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-7.jpg 2400w" /></div><div class="kg-gallery-image"><img src="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-2.jpg" width="2000" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="" srcset="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w600/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-2.jpg 600w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w1000/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-2.jpg 1000w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w1600/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-2.jpg 1600w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w2400/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-2.jpg 2400w" /></div><div class="kg-gallery-image"><img src="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-1.jpg" width="2000" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="" srcset="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w600/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-1.jpg 600w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w1000/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-1.jpg 1000w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w1600/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-1.jpg 1600w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w2400/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-1.jpg 2400w" /></div></div></div></figure><p>By contrast, Simogo's output has actually slowed as they've matured—seven titles in five years, then two games over the following decade—a dramatic deceleration that reveals a unique DNA that's invisible if you play each game in isolation. Simogo's stable partnership—Flesser and Gordon Gardebäck at the core, with longtime collaborators like composer Daniel Olsén—builds an oeuvre the way bands or filmmakers do. It's a distinct body of work from a team that operates without rigid roles. This flexibility matters as timelines expand and creative stakes shift."Even if you look at the story of <em>Bumpy Road</em>, you sort of see the early themes of death and memories as a recurring thing," Flesser says. "Life, love, and loss basically." The progression from <em>Bumpy Road</em>'s pixel-art whimsy to <em>Device 6</em>'s typographic architecture to <em>Sailor's Dream</em>'s fragmentary atmosphere is the mark of artists stumbling around saying the same thing in different ways.</p><h3 id="can-you-preserve-your-work-while-youre-still-creating">Can You Preserve Your Work While You're Still Creating?</h3><p></p><p>It's interesting doing this preservation work while you're still in the middle of your creative career as an artist. Many fields have preservationists who handle archival work separately from active production, although that work can still be preserved posthumously. But games don't afford that luxury. Flesser can't just put things in drawers; he has to actively port, rebuild, and maintain. "It's also not entirely preservation because it's just moving it from one digital platform to another," he notes darkly. "But on the other hand, the minute or the hour that it's on PC, it will get pirated, and so it becomes available forever."</p><p>Of course, a living archive released at the midpoint of your career gets me feeling some kind of way about <em>my own</em> mortality. I've been looking at games professionally for almost two decades, so looking back in my recent past is welcome but complicated. I remember jumping into Simogo's work almost immediately as a twentysomething, looking to fill my New York City subway rides, desperately listening for the drumbeats in <em>Beat Sneak Bandit</em>, closing my eyes in terror of <em>Year Walk</em>, scrambling to find someone to lend me an iPad to contort the screen in <em>Device 6</em>. </p><figure class="kg-card kg-image-card kg-width-wide kg-card-hascaption"><img src="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-5-1.jpg" class="kg-image" alt="" loading="lazy" width="2000" height="1125" srcset="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w600/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-5-1.jpg 600w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w1000/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-5-1.jpg 1000w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w1600/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-5-1.jpg 1600w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w2400/2026/02/Simogo-Legacy-Collection-5-1.jpg 2400w" /><figcaption><span style="white-space:pre-wrap">The Saul Bass scenography of </span><i><em class="italic" style="white-space:pre-wrap">Beat Sneak Bandit</em></i><span style="white-space:pre-wrap"> (2012)</span></figcaption></figure><p>The Legacy Collection arrives at a moment when Flesser's relationship to his younger work has crystallized into simultaneous proximity and distance. "You are sort of embarrassed because they're maybe trying to do more than they could," he says of the early games. "That's laudable because we weren't holding back." </p><p>As any type of creative person, your sense of what's good becomes both limited and honed by age—you know what's been done before, so you know what's actually novel. But there's something about being able to make work for your peers. "Games, in many ways, are still toys. They don't have to be, but they can be," Flesser says. "That's not necessarily a bad thing." But when you're 60, trying to make games for someone who's 15, that's going to be much harder. I remember playing <em>Sailor's Dream</em> when it first came out a decade ago. My approach to it is different now, with some life behind me—I have a daughter, my parents are getting older, and a game about losing someone is no longer abstract. Some themes in games are hard to really feel until you've got some life under your belt. The hope as a game maker is that you can continue exploring different expressions of humanity as you experience more of life.</p><p>"I've always been slightly obsessed with houses that you can't enter or doors that don't open," Flesser says. "There's so much stuff you can imagine." There's always a mystery with the things we can't quite unlock, the corners of our lives that we can't quite peek around, books unopened, and lives not lived. "The doors are sort of always closed for us when we finish a project," Flesser says. "It's more like, 'Ah, okay, now we don't have to think about this anymore.'" </p><p>But it's ok, because someone else will.</p>

Simon Flesser of Simogo preserves 15 years of iOS games not as you remember them, but exactly as they were—a radical act of fidelity over nostalgia.

06.02.2026 00:30 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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Why This Game About the Haitian Revolution Has No Bullets <iframe width="100%" height="180" frameborder="no" src="https://share.transistor.fm/e/bacf067e"></iframe> <p><a href="https://www.killscreen.com/dom-rabrun-veve-punk-haitian-revolution-videogame/">Read the full article.</a><br /><br />There's already a game about the Haitian Revolution. It's part of Assassin's Creed. You sneak around, you stab people, you "free the slaves"—and the game gives you an achievement notification.<br /><br />Dom Rabrun thinks that's bullshit.<br /><br />The Haitian-American painter and game designer is building Vèvè-Punk: Mind Singer, a game about the Haitian Revolution that refuses to let you pick up a weapon. Instead, you navigate Saint-Domingue's 16 racial classifications through dialogue trees, where saying the wrong thing to the wrong person can get you killed. Your protagonist isn't a soldier—she's a telepath and a singer. A free woman of color with zero strength, zero dexterity, and everything on the line.<br /><br />Dom's work sits at the intersection of Haitian Vodou symbolism, Basquiat's visual language, and the kind of thoughtful, conversation-driven game design you'd find in <em>Disco Elysium</em>. He's part of a generation of artists who grew up with games, studied painting, then realized that interactivity might be the best way to tell certain stories.<br /><br />But there's no lineage for what he's doing. Black filmmakers have Oscar Micheaux, Charles Burnett, Ava DuVernay. Black game designers? They're writing that history right now.<br /><br />In this conversation, we discuss why physical violence is the laziest choice in games, what it means to hold a controller and "control" someone, and how </p><p>Basquiat's painting <em>Glenn</em> taught him to think about right-clicking on reality. We also tackle the deeper question: when you're making a game about historical trauma, about enslavement, about revolution—how do you do that without replicating the very dehumanization you're trying to critique?</p><p><br /><a href="https://www.domrabrun.com/" rel="noreferrer"><strong>About Dom Rabrun</strong></a><strong>:</strong> Dom's work merges technology, storytelling, and music into a cohesive creative system. Guided by his first-generation Haitian-American heritage, conservative Christian upbringing, and 15 years of experience in IT, he's developed a philosophy called "Vèvè-Punk," blending Haitian Vodou symbolism with futuristic Afro-Caribbean themes. In 2020, his video piece <em>Dr. LaSalle, The Spider Queen, and Me</em> earned first prize in a juried exhibition at the Phillips Collection. He was a 2022 fellow with Black Public Media, which is now executive producing his forthcoming video game. He lives and works in Hyattsville, Maryland.<br /><br />If you like what you're listening to, <a href="https://www.killscreen.com/signup/">please consider becoming a member.</a></p>

There's already a game about the Haitian Revolution. It's part of Assassin's Creed. You sneak around, you stab people, you "free the slaves"—and the game gives you an achievement notification.

Dom Rabrun thinks that's bullshit.

28.01.2026 16:00 — 👍 1    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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No Shots Will Be Fired In Dom Rabrun’s Haitian Revolution <p>Artist Dom Rabrun sarcastically remembers the first game about the Haitian Revolution. "It's an Assassin's Creed offshoot made by mostly white folks," he says, his voice picking up speed, volume, and intensity as he teases out the story. "<em>'Shh! Shh! Wa! Shh! Shh! I'm gonna free slaves! Oh my God. Psh!' You freed the slaves! Bah-bah-bah-bah-bah!</em>,” he gesticulates from his apartment outside Washington, D.C., and describes a game that’s more like <em>Call of Duty</em> than <em>12 Years a Slave.</em> He pauses. "<em>That's</em> what we're doing?" Rambrum snorts.</p><p>The Hyattsville, Maryland-based painter and game designer isn't interested in making <em>that</em> game. His project, <a href="https://www.domrabrun.com/mindsinger" rel="noreferrer"><em>Vèvè-Punk: Mind Singer</em></a>, approaches his heritage and the Haitian Revolution through dialogue and choice rather than combat. The protagonist, Fabienne, is a free woman of color, a telepath and singer with zero strength and dexterity, who returns to the village to stop a super-soldier attempting to sabotage the Haitian Revolution. "Physical violence is so easy in games," Rabrun says. "I'm really interested in the conflicts that happen when a formerly enslaved person is talking to someone of a different social status and has to pretend like he doesn't know something.” </p><p>This “double consciousness” is precisely what has kept the diaspora alive throughout the former enslaved labor colonies, and capturing that tactical linguistic specificity is an interesting design challenge. “What does that dialogue tree look like for someone who's like, 'All right, if I don't say the right thing, this dude is gonna murder me.'"</p><figure class="kg-card kg-embed-card"><iframe width="200" height="113" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/8UfFIHoMkoY?feature=oembed" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen title="Why This Haitian Revolution Game Has No Combat | Dom Rabrun Interview | Killscreen #17"></iframe></figure><p>Part of the new crop of visual artists who grew up on games and now are approaching the medium with their brush in hand, Rabrun's path to game development wasn't direct. He lived in a rent-controlled building in Brooklyn, raised by his mother, who bought him and his brother a Mac in 1994, when she was dying of HIV-related illnesses, and most Americans didn't own computers, especially BIPOC Americans. He remembers specific games with unusual clarity: <em>Flying Colors</em>, a proto-Photoshop program that let you create strange animated tableaux. <em>Super Mario World</em> on a neighbor's Super Nintendo, the sound still vivid decades later. “It’s been this dance of me being so in love with games as a medium and for portions of my life trying to downplay just how important they are to me.”</p><p>Aside from the cultural penalty the arts-minded can endure when taking games seriously, Rabrun’s religious community complicated his affection for it, while also enhancing its allure and adding a touch of the forbidden. Raised as a Jehovah's Witness, drawing comics—his first love—meant drawing violence, which wasn't allowed. Art itself wasn't exactly encouraged. "I come from a very conservative Christian, super working-class family," he says. "Drawing for me was always my thing, and I was rarely, if ever, praised for it or even barely acknowledged. It was like, 'Oh yeah, that's a thing you do.'"</p><figure class="kg-card kg-image-card kg-width-full kg-card-hascaption"><img src="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/2026/01/Dom-01-Cropped-Small.webp" class="kg-image" alt="" loading="lazy" width="200" height="118" /><figcaption><span style="white-space:pre-wrap">Rabrun's </span><i><em class="italic" style="white-space:pre-wrap">We See You</em></i><span style="white-space:pre-wrap"> mural (2024) in honor of America's first Black broadcast news anchor</span></figcaption></figure><p>He discovered comic artist James Jean around the same time he connected with Basquiat, and his practice has attempted to blend his two loves by drawing heavily on Haitian and Caribbean tradition. He spent two childhood summers with an aunt succumbing to the distraction with his nose pressed firmly in a GameBoy Color with <em>Pokémon Yellow</em>. The trip left impressions on him, if only that it was one of the few times his homeland was treated as a vibrant place, not an empty threat to send him away.</p><p>Basquiat was both an obvious entry point, a comparison that he bristles at as a lazy touchstone for any Haitian artist, but his encounter with <em>Glenn</em> (1985) at the Museum of Modern Art conceptually opened doors for his future game practice. In the seven-foot canvas, an enormous head speaks–no, screams—into a white background, an attempt to puncture invisibility with the power of sound. To Rabrun, the painting was an invitation to step into the work through the language of computers. “If you could imagine right-clicking on an element of a Basquiat painting, what does that menu look like? Pretty much any element you click is gonna give you sound, video, weird shit.”</p><figure class="kg-card kg-image-card kg-card-hascaption"><img src="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/2026/01/image.png" class="kg-image" alt="" loading="lazy" width="1565" height="1350" srcset="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w600/2026/01/image.png 600w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w1000/2026/01/image.png 1000w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/2026/01/image.png 1565w" /><figcaption><span style="white-space:pre-wrap">Jean-Michel Basqiat's 1985 "Glenn"</span></figcaption></figure><p>In Rabrun’s paintings, flat perspectives force foreground and background to hold equal weight, where a goat and a hurricane share the same visual importance. "It's ancient wisdom," he says. "Our ancestors knew a thousand years ago that the earth is important. You should be able to hold a leaf and be like, '<em>The leaf is me too</em>.'" That compositional approach, he notes, flies in the face of games' typical hierarchy of player over non-player: "I click this thing, and my character moves here. What does it mean to even hold this controller and control someone?"</p><p>His painting practice eventually led him back to games through <a href="https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL4CvmiLDOUXRDoOW4ys9hYkLcWFRLZz49" rel="noreferrer"><em>Hip Hop RPG</em>,</a> a six-episode animated series about an SNES-style RPG starring Kendrick Lamar, Drake, and Tyler, the Creator in a post-apocalyptic world. The work is a bit of a time capsule, given how complicated his protagonists have become over the last few years (Kanye, let's say, hasn't aged well.). In the first episode, Drake heals Kendrick—a detail that feels stranger now,w given their current relationship. The series never finished. "I was a baby writer," Rabrun admits. "I hadn't scoped out the whole story."</p><p>But <em>Hip Hop RPG</em> taught him what he wanted to make. It also foregrounds Black art and establishes his voice as someone looking to translate what animated Rabrun about our culture. When Black Public Media executive producer Lisa Osborne saw his pitch for a character-select screen showing the racial and class stratifications of 1790 Saint-Domingue, she told him to turn it into a real game. "I was like, 'Oh my God,'" he recalls. "And she was right."</p><p>The challenge goes beyond game design. "Being Black sometimes, when you're just trying to make stuff that’s historically accurate, you feel like this...ugh," he says, searching for words. "Like you think of something like <em>Amistad</em> or <em>Roots</em>. And I ask myself this all the time: Does this work in games?” It’s a tension I feel personally–I want to foreground Black joy, but it can be hard to find that wonder when the past, present, and future can seem so burdened.  “On the flip side, I'm like, o<em>kay, well, how many games have I played about a samurai? Or a fiefdom in ancient Europe somewhere.</em> And I'm like, okay, well then why is <em>this</em> one uncomfortable?"</p><figure class="kg-card kg-gallery-card kg-width-wide"><div class="kg-gallery-container"><div class="kg-gallery-row"><div class="kg-gallery-image"><img src="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/2026/01/Fabienne-Neutral-Portrait.webp" width="565" height="540" loading="lazy" alt="" /></div><div class="kg-gallery-image"><img src="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/2026/01/Mind-Singer-Map-Small.webp" width="900" height="506" loading="lazy" alt="" srcset="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w600/2026/01/Mind-Singer-Map-Small.webp 600w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/2026/01/Mind-Singer-Map-Small.webp 900w" /></div></div><div class="kg-gallery-row"><div class="kg-gallery-image"><img src="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/2026/01/Mind-Singer-Theater-BG.webp" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="" srcset="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w600/2026/01/Mind-Singer-Theater-BG.webp 600w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w1000/2026/01/Mind-Singer-Theater-BG.webp 1000w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w1600/2026/01/Mind-Singer-Theater-BG.webp 1600w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/2026/01/Mind-Singer-Theater-BG.webp 1920w" /></div><div class="kg-gallery-image"><img src="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/2026/01/Montrevel-Portrait.webp" width="1500" height="2066" loading="lazy" alt="" srcset="https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w600/2026/01/Montrevel-Portrait.webp 600w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/size/w1000/2026/01/Montrevel-Portrait.webp 1000w, https://www.killscreen.com/content/images/2026/01/Montrevel-Portrait.webp 1500w" /></div></div></div></figure><p><em>Mind Singer</em> is now 70% complete in its vertical slice phase. The game is playable, though Rabrun knows it needs more narrative tension, more of what makes stories work. “What are Toussaint Louverture’s stats?” he wonders. He's aiming for something between Donald Glover and David Lynch, citing <em>Disco Elysium</em> as a touchstone. "I want games where you sit and think about stuff and talk," he says.</p><p>These quiet acts of resistance, rebellion, and occasional violence are more in line with contemporary understandings of enslaved rebellions. “Because slaveholders wrote the first draft of history,” historian Vincent Brown <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/01/27/the-long-war-against-slavery"><u>lamented in <em>The New Yorker</em></u></a>, “subsequent historiography has strained to escape from their point of view.” Brown argues that it’s better to think of each uprising as part of a larger struggle for freedom, rather than isolated acts of bravery, a sentiment Rabrun echoes: “I'm walking on ice. I know that. It's like you have to make these deliberate choices for how the audience will see it."</p><p>There's no lineage for what he's attempting. Unlike film, where decades of diasporic filmmakers from Oscar Micheaux to Charles Burnett to Ava DuVernay built a tradition, games offer a sparse foundation in need of deeper historical scholarship. There are wonderful new communities like Game Devs of Color, but the future history of Black game design is really starting <em>today</em>. "I got a little terrified just now," Rabrun says when this comes up. "It is kind of me in this place. <em>I'm like, okay. And I have this awesome team</em>, and we're like, <em>okay, we're gonna do this thing</em>."</p><p>In some ways, Ubisoft did him a favor. They took the low-hanging fruit—the combat, the stealth kills, the "freed the slaves" achievement notifications. Now Rabrun is free to make something else entirely. </p><p>"I'm not interested in showing the murder," he says. "I'm interested in what that dialogue tree looks like." Saint-Domingue had 16 racial classifications. Navigating that social structure without a weapon—only words, only choices, only the consequences of saying the wrong thing to the wrong person—that's the revolution Rabrun wants to put in your hands.</p>

Artist Dom Rabrun rejects combat for "tactical linguistics" in Vèvè-Punk: Mind Singer, a game exploring the Haitian Revolution through dialogue and Black artistry.

28.01.2026 16:00 — 👍 0    🔁 1    💬 0    📌 0
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Why should we treat videogames as archaeological sites? Archaeologist Florence Smith Nicholls discusses "archaeogaming," mapping the digital traces of Elden Ring, and the hopeful act of "anticipatory archaeology."
17.12.2025 17:16 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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Go to Diskokina to See the Future of Live Performance I’m exploring Diskokina, the new vanguard of live performance that blends commedia dell'arte and the club. Artists are using game engines to redefine what theater can be.
10.12.2025 20:03 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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Manufacturing Discomfort with Messhof [KS01] Mark Essen (Messhof) creates games that thrive on discomfort, from the sickening drone of Randy Balma to the merciless difficulty of Flywrench. We explore how his background in art and film, and his preference for controlled randomness, shapes his uniquely unapproachable yet alluring designs.
05.12.2025 20:11 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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What Happens When You Can Do Nothing in a War Zone? Alan Kwan's new game, Scent, offers you a role not as a soldier, but as a lone dog wandering a desolate war zone. You are simply a witness without power.
03.12.2025 01:00 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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Carrie Chen's Digital Avatars Bridge Past and Future Carrie Chen uses AI, motion capture, and game engines to create digital self-portraits that span generations, interrogating identity across time and space.
19.11.2025 21:43 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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Why P.T. Anderson Gets Away With "Retro" But Games Don't Why do filmmakers using vintage VistaVision get praised for aesthetic choice while pixel-art games get labeled "retro"? The difference reveals everything.
12.11.2025 12:00 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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"La vraie vie" asks what it means to be real in a fake place French filmmakers follow actor Victor AssiĂŠ through a role-play server in Arma 3, creating a documentary that blurs the line between virtual and real life.
04.11.2025 01:23 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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Keiken's Morphogenic Angels Imagines Post-Human Bodies 1,000 Years From Now Keiken—Isabel Ramos, Hana Omori, and Tanya Cruz—merge performance, film, and game design to build optimistic post-human worlds 1,000 years in the future.
30.10.2025 00:26 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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Indira Ardolic's Live-Coding Performances Turn Game Engines Into Instruments Indira Ardolic uses game engines to create audio-reactive environments for live-coding performances, where bugs and glitches become part of the show.
23.10.2025 17:35 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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Labubus, Loot Boxes and the Gamblification of Everything From Labubus to loot boxes, gambling mechanics have escaped video games to colonize daily life—turning every transaction into a chance for excitement.
15.10.2025 22:34 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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Ina Chen Charts Her Family's Journey From Mao to Migration Artist Ina Chen uses deepfakes, family archives, and interactive technology to bridge generational gaps in a moving performance about Chinese history
01.10.2025 00:31 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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Alice Bucknell Soars From Pollination Simulators to Quantum Love Stories _"It was so hot. It was crazy," Alice Bucknell told me about their summer. The London-based artist had spent an absolutely torrid week in a flat in Paris. It was productive, but the heat was a sign of the times. Bucknell has spent much of their career exploring our changing world through game-based work like The Alluvials, a speculative future series about the water politics in Los Angeles, spanning several short games and a film._ _But something changed this year. "The long and short of it was, this year I was thinking a lot about love," Bucknell said. Two new works, Nightcrawlers and Small Void, found Bucknell turning to multiplayer games to flip traditional gaming hierarchies, creating experiences where players must work together as different species—bats and flowers in pollination dances, matter and antimatter seeking reunification in black holes. Showing at venues like Centre Pompidou and informed by residencies at CERN, Bucknell's games challenge players to navigate relationships beyond human language—through sonar, electromagnetic pulses, and haptic feedback. Their work asks us to reconsider agency, partnership, and what it means to truly cooperate._ _Here, we speak with Alice about why plants make good dance partners, how black holes are really about the wavelength of desire, and why more game artists are trying to "fuck it up" in multiplayer design._ __Nightcrawlers__(2025) **Going into _Nightcrawlers_ , how do you see that work as an extension of some of the things you're exploring in _The Alluvials_ , versus a divergence? ** The connective tissue between _Nightcrawlers_ and _The Alluvials_ is literal in some ways. There was one of the levels of _The Alluvials_ that I call a pollination simulator. You're playing as either the Joshua Tree or the Yucca Moth. If you're playing as a moth, you're flying around and going to these trees that have been tagged for you to pollinate. If you're the tree, you're just talking to the moth to get the particle systems to come over to you, which triggers the pollination event. It's very simple mechanics. Still, I was interested in _The Alluvials_ in playing with this idea of an _infinite_ pollination simulator—getting to live with this embodied, drunken, and goofy mating act. I could really dilate it and turn it into a game that you could play not just for longer with more complexity, but with another person at the same time. The idea of pollinating as a solo player felt wrong to me. That felt biologically like it doesn't really make sense, but also kind of lonely, you know? So I thought it would be fun to make eventually. I didn't have a timeline in place, but I knew I wanted to play around with it as a game typology. Then, when I was working at Centre Pompidou, they were closing for a five-year renovation, and they were willing to commission new work from me. The location of their closing exhibition was the Grand Palais in Paris, an insanely beautiful, gigantic building from the turn of the century. What would be cooler than playing as a bat inside this gigantic glass house? Or playing as a flower and creating this pollination mini-game that was a two-player cooperative musical? Pollination didn't just become a de facto thing you can do with the push of a button; it actually required more effort and more communication between different beings. The musical score component is a nod towards multi-species cooperation. Still, it also explores how two species might communicate and co-evolve beyond language—whether it's pheromones or sonar that the bat uses or the way that the flower evolves to shape itself to be the precise length that could pick up and reflect the bat's sonar back to the bat. Something with that density or complexity, but just be fun. **You know, it's interesting with bats—different animals capture the public imagination in different ways, and I think bats have had a negative valence for the public for a long time, you know? Vampires and spreading diseases. Some of the research on bat pollination stuff is newer, right?** They're a keystone species for propping up entire ecosystems. **Flies are pollinators, but bees have had exclusive rights to pollination for quite some time.** Bats have a really good PR agent. **When you were working with bats, I was curious about your response to doing playthroughs. Did you find that this was changing some perceptions, the way people think about bats now, or getting to embody a bat?** When my collaborator, Mati Bratkowski, was working on the game, we thought everyone would want to be the bat and have the bird's-eye omniscience of being airborne. The camera distorts around the bat, and the feeling of flying is sublime. We were worried about people loving bats so much that _no one_ would want to play with the flowers. 0:00 /0:18 1× Pollination sequence **Right.** How do you create a sort of gameplay for a flower that is, by and large, inanimate? On the scale, that doesn't make sense to human witnesses. We wanted to make the flower hold true to the science of it all. I was reading Zoë Schlanger's beautiful book _The Light Eaters_. She talks about how plants have a very complicated communication, movement, and sensing system. But plants exist in the world at all of these different barometers and intensities that don't match up with human-scale systems—understanding how the world works or how things move through it. Zoë's book really interested me in this kind of system of electromagnetic pulses that plants use to communicate through their root system—not just within themselves but in the whole network of roots that might make up a forest or maybe the ways that they're entangled with other trees or fungi or other creatures of the woods—or of the soil, let's say. So, inside the movement mechanic of the flower in _Nightcrawlers_ , it embraces the idea of these electric pulses. When you move as a flower, you're not moving as the flower itself, but you're moving as the pulse of information that's being transmitted throughout the network. So you get to fling yourself almost catapult style through your root network system, then pop up in all these different locations. It's like whack-a-mole, where you can loom around under. And we did this cool thing where we ended up flipping the architecture of the Grand Palais upside down. So it's a bit like the upside-down world in _Stranger Things_ , where you see the landscape above ground, but it's reversed. And that gives a sense of scale as to how far you can catapult yourself worldwide. People actually _really_ like playing the flower. That was cool. Alice at Centre Pompidou (Credit: CHANEL) **In games, often cooperation is in the service of some kind of competition, as opposed to something mutualistic.** Yeah, exactly. With this game, obviously, to start the pollination mini-game—the musical, almost like Simon Says kind of thing—you have to wait for the other player to collect the charms around the landscape. Still, one thing we wanted to undo was this assumed hierarchy of there's a pollinator and there's a pollinated. You know, plants necessarily become the sub in this situation, and whoever's flying around gets to initiate everything. That's not necessarily true, so it shouldn't be true in the game. So whoever collects the notes first gets to initiate the mini-game, and they get to be the ones who set the score that the other person has to follow. So we like to think about pollination being this sort of interplay and a kind of dynamic where these power dynamics can shift, and they're slippery, you know, and that's part of the fun. **Have you seen a bat pollinate before?** Sadly not. I haven't witnessed the pollination. I've just watched videos of it. Making the game made me attentive to seeing bats at night, especially throughout the summer. They used to come out when I was in Paris, and I would get to watch them come out during the sort of dusk period, right as the sun had set. And they were just swooping around outside my place, which was beautiful. 0:00 /0:15 1× **Let's talk about _Small Void_. It's also multiplayer, so what has interested you about multiplayer game design? ** The long and short of it is that this year, I was thinking a lot about love. **Awwww.** I think both of these games are love stories in a way. Maybe the _Nightcrawlers_ game is more literal and obvious in terms of being a pollination simulator. Still, _Small Void_ is a game inspired by my residency at CERN, the European Center for Nuclear Research. It's inspired by black holes and quantum entanglement. I almost see these two games as siblings. One is maybe at the cosmic scale, and one is at an earthbound level, and it can be at the scale of the micro or the scale of two beings existing on our planet. But they're both fundamentally about how two parts of a whole, or these frictions of identity, go into life cycles. _Small Void,_ and into you're playing as matter and antimatter, based on this concept in black hole studies called Hawking's radiation paradox. It's this idea of something being on the edge of a black hole, whether it's a chair or a boat or a plant, let's say, or a bat. Then, that object splits into two parts—matter and antimatter–because all objects basically have the equivalent amount of matter and antimatter. And then if they split into two, half of it falls into the hole, and half gets shot back into space. Will the objects or halves of the same object ever be able to find each other again? Will they be able to do annihilation, where they meet and merge and explode? It's not death necessarily, but it's just transferring into another state of being. But you could think about both games as this quest to find the other person to do something, whether to pollinate or to annihilate. It is ultimately a hide-and-seek game. **When you have two players, it's not linear in terms of dynamics; it's logarithmic regarding each additional player and what's possible.** That's a good question. With _Small Void_ and _Nightcrawlers_ , I explore the messiness of human relationships, attachment theory, breakdown of language, and non-linguistic language. Two intelligent beings relating to each other through time and space, whether that's inside of a black hole or inside of a French beaux-arts building—how do I create the system where you're fumbling around in the dark and having to navigate this strange and unusual world, but having to do it together? Togetherness isn't a burden, but actually questions partnership and identity as core mechanics of the gameplay. Also, I was interested in experimenting with echolocation as a primary mechanic—what if sound matters more than image? The haptic feedback mechanic in _Small Void_ can help you try to find the other player based on the pulses that the controller is giving out. So the closer you are, the more intense the pulses are. **Love it, yeah. Yeah, it's interesting from you and Theo Triantafyllidis'****_Feral Metaverse_****and****Sahej Rahal's _DMT_****. It's interesting to see more artists experimenting with these interpersonal dynamics in a gallery context. I wanted to ask if there's a bit of** **convergent evolution happening with artists.** As an artist who shows games in museums or gallery settings, I've noticed the controller anxiety that our world has. People love the concept of video games—everyone's like,_yeah, love this new media_ , which is hot right now. But then, if you give someone the controller, they freak out. "Yeah, I don't want to touch this. I don't want to break anything. I'm scared." A lot of us are really interested in this question of agency and distributing or decentralizing it. What kind of power hierarchy is there here, and how do we fuck it up, break it down, and challenge it? This is a question that artists deal with in any medium. So it makes sense that artists who are making games are using this very obvious and very immediate way of fucking with agency through a multiplayer system. _This interview was edited for grammar and clarity._
26.09.2025 23:10 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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Teddy Pozo Explores Loss, Life, and Identity Through Interactive Clay Artist Teddy Pozo transforms clay and circuitry into intimate gaming experiences, exploring transgender identity through sculptures that respond to human touch.
23.09.2025 19:46 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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The Game Design of Severance Ben Stiller's Severance uses game design principles to explore information, identity, and workplace control through the lens of split personalities and corporate mystery.
20.09.2025 15:00 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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The Inner Lives of Lawrence Lek's Emotional AI Lawrence Lek builds virtual worlds where AI develops consciousness, self-driving cars attend therapy, and surveillance systems dream of being wild foxes.
16.09.2025 20:46 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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Harriet Davey's Glossy Aliens Reject Gaming's Binary World Berlin-based artist Harriet Davey transforms game engines into laboratories for queer identity, creating luminescent alien creatures that challenge gaming's aesthetic norms.
09.09.2025 00:11 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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Long games and the pursuit of lost time Games demand too much time, creating cultural moats that prevent shared experience and meaningful discourse. What if brevity could unlock their potential?
02.09.2025 23:00 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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Is Gerrymandering Cheating or Just A Good Strat? American democracy operates like a complex board game where the rules keep changing, cheating is normalized, and spoilsports threaten the entire system.
20.08.2025 22:09 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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How Roxanne Harris performs jazz with code The middle child sandwiched between two brothers, Roxanne Harris first discovered her voice through video games. Those _Super Smash Bros_ —99-stock battles that stretched for hours—weren't just sibling bonding. (I can attest to this!) They were Harris developing what she calls a parallel personality, one that existed as much in virtual space as physical reality. Some might have discovered this duality online, but games provided a perfect foil for exploring computer-mediated personality. "I kind of almost saw my personality in the virtual world before it fully developed," Harris says of those early gaming sessions in Queens. Now, the Yale-trained computer scientist and jazz saxophonist has found a way to merge those worlds through live coding, transforming lines of Ruby script into improvisational performances that blur the boundaries between musician, programmer, and instrument. Growing up as the daughter of Jamaican immigrants, she initially dreamed of becoming a video game designer—not in the casual way every kid who plays games imagines making them, but with serious intent. She wanted to contribute to the complex ecosystems that required "many hands in many areas of expertise," from concept artists to sound designers. That multidisciplinary fascination would eventually lead her down an unexpected path. CodeSwitch (33.9668800, -118.4533748) // Remaster by ROX // Eternal, alsoknownasrox, The Growth Eternal ## Sign up for Killscreen Exploring the future of interdisciplinary play Subscribe Email sent! Check your inbox to complete your signup. No spam. Unsubscribe anytime. Harris entered Yale as a computer science and mathematics major, coming off what she describes as a "pretty serious high school career" as an alto saxophonist. She was part of the first iteration of Jazz at Lincoln Center's high school academy, having played saxophone since second or third grade. At Yale, she initially kept these interests separate—parking her musical practice while focusing on the "career-heavy" quantitative disciplines. But something was not right. "I was missing that creative aspect," she recalls. The turning point came during her junior year when she encountered the algorithmic composition tool _Super Collider_ in a computer music class. This was her first exposure to scripting music, though still in an academic context—students would write compositions, run them, and submit them like traditional coding assignments. The idea of editing and manipulating code live, using it as performance material, hadn't yet occurred to her. Then came quarantine. With her joint thesis proposal redirected (she'd wanted to combine computer science and music), Harris spent the summer diving deeper into computer music, eventually discovering live coding videos online. "The idea of editing and changing and melding the code live, using the code as material"—this was the revelation. For her senior thesis, she documented her learning process while building extension libraries for Sonic Pi, ultimately creating an EP of compositions that merged her technical and musical backgrounds. Harris showing her work during her Processing Foundation fellowship Live coding music has a longer history in algorithmic performance dating back to Brian Eno, but its incarnation as "algoraves" is a 21st-century invention. Live coding shows off the software to the audience while music and/or visuals are improvised. Harris's training provided an entry point for her creation in this context. "Saxophone in my head is like a stream of sound happening, very improvisational," she explains. "I feel like I translated that approach to my live coding practice." Where a pianist might manage ten different voices simultaneously, Harris imagines having ten saxophones, each improvising within a larger arrangement. The computer becomes her ensemble. Before each show, she constructs what she calls a "playground"—a curated set of tools and functions, like “toys spread out in preschool.” These might include custom rhythm generators, algorithmic shuffling functions, or what she terms "deterministic randomness"—patterns that appear random to the audience but follow precise computational logic. Initially, this improvisational piece was a bit hard to wrap around as a non-technical performance. I’m so accustomed to the idea that programmers do something independently, release it to the public, and then respond. But in live coding, that process is plastic and dialogic. Harris prepares, performs, and then adjusts the performance. The distance between what’s happening on-screen and what’s happening on Harris’ keyboard has collapsed entirely. “There are a couple of principal concerns,” she says. “But I spend a lot of time thinking about how to make myself comfortable onstage.” And unlike posting her work to GitHub for posterity, much of what happens passes into memory. "I can't remember the last performance," she says, trying to recall anything pre-planned. "The vast majority of my performances are just completely improvised." This approach reflects a more profound philosophy about human-computer collaboration. "We're computers too," Harris insists, comparing her practice to how she imagines John Coltrane's mind worked—generating complex patterns through internal algorithms. The live coding makes this process visible, stripping away the abstraction that typically separates audience from performer in electronic music. Unlike a DJ hidden behind a laptop or an electronic musician triggering pre-programmed sequences, Harris's screen projections reveal every moment of creative decision-making. This transparency has two sides. Obscuring the process allows for secrecy, but it can also obscure brilliance. By showing the previously unviewable down cards, the “hole cam” allowed poker viewers to see the mind and strategy of world-class gambling minds. The DMC World DJ championships showcased the magic of turntablism and opened the door to seeing how DJs manipulate sound with technique. Harris points out that virtuosity is well understood in the live coding community as well. On the other side, exposing your process is free soloing. "It's algorithmic vulnerability," she says, acknowledging the risks. “When there’s a syntax error, everything is going to stop.” Or worse, it just won’t feel right. The audience might think it's "the coolest thing ever" or dismiss it entirely, wondering why she doesn't just use FL Studio or Ableton. Some viewers, catching glimpses of familiar code structures, might even question the difficulty. But this transparency is precisely the point. Where traditional electronic music hardware abstracts functionality into buttons and knobs, Harris builds her instruments from scratch in real-time, showing the mathematical transformations that sculpt sound. Practice session with music from Tyler, The Creator The social dynamics of her performances fascinate her. At Wonderville, the Brooklyn arcade bar that serves as New York's live coding hub, she performs alongside vintage arcade cabinets—a fitting venue for someone whose artistic journey began with video games. I’ve spent some time at Wonderville and it’s absolutely overwhelming with every corner packed with games. But it’s the sensory overload that really captures Harris’ work an unholy fusions: games, music, and performance existing simultaneously, each medium informing the others. Harris's setup varies but centers on Sonic Pi and Max/MSP, sometimes incorporating her saxophone for a "tangible somatic" element amid the digital abstractions. She thinks carefully about connectivity—how different software environments can communicate, how she can build bridges between platforms to use each for its strengths. This modular approach means she can show up to a session with just a laptop and build whatever backing tracks other musicians need on the fly. That flexibility is "something that in most contexts, you pretty much can't do," she notes. SPONSORED Enjoy this profile? Consider supporting Killscreen for the year for more essays, interviews, and profiles on the future of interdisciplinary play. Learn more The future Harris envisions pushes even further into real-time synthesis. She's experimenting with Unity, creating patches that let Sonic Pi control visual environments. The goal isn't just audiovisual performance but something approaching total improvisational control—music, visuals, and interactive elements all responding to her code in real-time, all vulnerable to the syntax errors and happy accidents that make each performance unique. "At the end of the day, I want to make good music," Harris says. "This is just how I'm choosing to do it." But her choice represents something larger: a radical honesty about creative process, a willingness to compute in public, and a belief that code itself can be an expressive medium. In making her thinking visible, Harris doesn't just perform music—she performs the act of creation itself, inviting audiences into the usually hidden dialogue between human intention and machine logic.
12.08.2025 23:44 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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Silicon Valley in a Sand Trap with Sam Ghantous The same silica that powers your GPU fills the sand traps at Augusta National. Artist Sam Ghantous joins us to discuss "your golf course made my GPU," his three-channel video installation that traces the geological origins of our digital obsessions. Ghantous admits he's afraid of hardware. Despite this—or because of it—he's spent the past year confronting the physical reality behind our screens. Using Unity and Unreal Engine not to make games but to interrogate them, he reveals how ultra-pure silica mined in North Carolina becomes both microchips and golf course sand. The work forces us to reckon with what he calls the "big sludge of media" that surrounds us—accessible on one hand, black-boxed on the other. We discuss his childhood moving between Oman, the Middle East, and North America, and how this itinerant experience shaped his understanding of sand's perpetual movement. He describes printing UV images onto silicon wafers—the raw material of microchips—creating what he calls "portals" framed by rings of sand scanned in his studio. Behind the cleared dust, ethereal reimaginings of Botticelli paintings emerge. The conversation toggles between pleasure and guilt, much like the two voices in his video work—a synthetic childlike inquisitor and the artist's own voice. We talk about Chinese sand dredgers "editing the map" at planetary scale, golfers trapped in bunkers, and future projects where "Hello World" might take millions of years to print in deep time computing. "I'm not standing on some moral high ground," Ghantous tells us. "I'm struggling with the temptations, both for new things and for fascinating things, but also trying not to look at my phone more." Currently teaching at ETH Zürich, Ghantous hints at future works: games affecting one another across distances, sculptures bringing earthliness and computation together, seeking new languages for the consequences of our actions on other parts of the planet. _This episode was hosted by Jamin Warren, founder of Killscreen.__Music by Nick Sylvester_ _._ Thoughts? Guest suggestions? Email us at info@killscreen.com.
12.08.2025 02:46 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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Sam Ghantous Finds Silicon Valley in a Sand Trap Sam Ghantous traces silica from North Carolina mines to GPUs and golf courses, revealing the geological origins of our digital obsessions through video art.
07.08.2025 19:24 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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Balatro and the expected value of wonder Balatro transforms poker into a mathematical puzzle that reveals how optimization culture has replaced genuine play, turning casino aesthetics into pure sensation.
05.08.2025 18:10 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0
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Mario von Rickenbach just wants you to play nice with others Swiss designer Mario von Rickenbach discusses Rakete, his one-day cooperative rocket game, and how architectural thinking shapes his approach to physics.
31.07.2025 20:20 — 👍 0    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0