Experimental Game Design

marvinch

Rules of War: A Chess Appropriation

by | Oct 22, 2024 |

The Initial Inspirations

Chess is one of my favourite games. With a simple set of rules, you get an intellectually enriching, and often emotionally exhilarating experience.

In the readings that we did, the art pieces that popped out to me are the ones that are based on Chess. “White Chess” is an art piece that came to mind. It is the same game of Chess, except that all the colours of the pieces are White. One might say that the game was not really changed, merely how it looks. Still, unless you can play Chess blindfolded, there will come a point where it becomes very difficult to differentiate between your pieces and your opponent’s pieces. With the same game of Chess, it speaks volumes on the meaning of war that we never really considered–what does it mean for us to be on different sides, fighting against each other? Especially when it becomes difficult to differentiate between us and them?

Still, White Chess is not merely the same as two sides being the same color. The entire game takes advantage of the intellectual and emotional aspects of Chess, thereby adding a multiplier to the underlying message.

There are other examples of Chess being sampled. For instance, various artists, including Duchamp, made Chess pieces with particular styles. In all of these instances, these appropriations of Chess took advantage of the very nature of Chess to emphasize on a different underlying message.

The same way that the simple rules of Chess allow for emergent gameplay behavior, appropriating Chess also allows for corresponding emergent messages.

Thus, I wanted to do appropriate Chess in a way that delivers an underlying message that isn’t present in the base game. The message I wanted to send across in my art piece is the cyclic nature of war. Chess is a game that has a clear end goal–checkmating the king. Once that’s done, the game is officially over. However, most wars in real-life are never that simple. They often last for several generations until no one really knows how the war began, only that they have to win it.

In the same anti-war spirit of several Dada art pieces, such as White Chess, I would like a Chess game that discuss the gruesome part of war that never ends, and to make players, what does it all mean?

Version 1

In the very first version, I wanted to remove all possible win conditions from the Chess game. Firstly, I had kings removed from the board. I had a feeling that this will make the game far less engaging, as a lot of dynamics of Chess rely on playing around the kings on the board. Secondly, I added a rule that whenever a piece gets eaten, you can have it respawned on one of its starting positions. A respawning piece may land on a Chess piece that is already there, in which case that Chess piece gets eaten and you can respawn that too.

The results of the first playtest showed that the game does communicate the message of war happening across several generations until the point where the original configuration of the board has become lost through noise and tiome. After playing for a while, both players agree that the game has become meaningless. They are just playing it for the sake of playing the game.

Although this does meet my goal, I also feel that I don’t want the message to be delivered because the players feel bored. I want players to feel engaged by the art piece, both intellectually and emotionally. This cannot happen if there are almost no consequence to the player’s actions.

Version 2

In order to add consequence to the player’s actions, I have decided to modify the rules so that whenever you respawn a piece, you have to wait have to make two moves before you can respawn another piece. The reason for this is so that the game is still endless, but there are brief moments players can feel that they got the upper-hand, as in real-life war. Still, unless the player is a professional, they will likely be unable to capture all of the pieces.

Furthermore, I have put the kings back on the board. This was a tough decision to make. The problem with removing the kings from the board is that too much has been taken away from the game of chess. Chess strategies revolve around the king, and so, without the king, chess strategies are inherently meaningless. Much of the beauty of the game is lost without the kings.

The playtest of the game showed that this version of the game is much more intellectually and emotionally engaging, and still communicates the cyclic nature of war. However, I believe there is still room for improvement. There is a lot of cognitive energy needed to keep track of how many moves you need to make before you can respawn again. What makes chess elegant is that all cognitive energy is spent on how the pieces interact, and not anything extraneous. Another observation I made is that the game is best when both sides have lost quite a number of pieces, and are trying to hold it out until they can get their respawns. I felt like the game should exist in this state more.

Final Version

For the final version of the game, I have modified the rules such that whenever you lose 6 pieces, you can bring 4 of them back. This removes the distraction of having to keep track how many moves you need to make before you can respawn again, while keeping the spicy part of the game where both sides have lost a few pieces.

When we showcased the game in class, one player managed to checkmate the other player, and both players lost 5 pieces. Thus, the respawn mechanic was not triggered. In an ironic twist, they just played a regular game of Chess. In an effort to make the game more intellectually and emotionally engaging, I have weakened the part of the game responsible for discussing the cyclic nature of war.

Post Mortem

The Chess’ checkmate rule and my message on the cyclic nature of war are inherently contradictory. A possible idea for how this game could be changed is changing checkmate such that it doesn’t end the game. For example, whenever you are checkmated, the another piece is promoted to the king, and the king simply becomes the piece that was promoted.

Plane Words: A Score

by | Sep 25, 2024 | ,

The Initial Inspirations

The things about Fluxus and scores were new to me. There were several ideas sitting around in my head. When coming up with my own score, I returned to them.

  • Some of the scores in Yoko Ono’s “Grapefruit” require materials. I like the idea of that. What if I could have a score that would require materials that are readily available?
  • I wanted to have a score that had an impact. After people read my score, they would walk away looking at the world a little differently. Not all scores are for this purpose, but some are. For example, the “Total Art Matchbox”, which provokes people to consider what art means and why they are preserved in museums. So, I wanted a score that has to do with materials, and I also wanted to have a score that could make an impact. What if it’s a score about passing materials around? I came back to the idea of a “kindness boomerang”. It was a video I watched on YouTube a while back. A person does something kind for someone, and because of that, that person does something kind for someone else, and so on, until the person who original did that kind thing is on the receiving end.
  • Speaking of the “Total Art Matchbox”, I also like the idea that the score is written on the object that the score is about. Its meta nature strengthens its message. What is a readily available material that can accommodate words on it? What came to my mind is paper. Paper is everywhere, and we write stuff on it.
  • Paper can have lots of words, that’s what they are for, but I am inspired by the vibes of “Grapefruit”. I honestly do not quite understand what those vibes are, but I think it has to do with the brevity of the text, yet they make you ponder. Thus, I wanted to have that level of brevity in my piece of paper, and to try and capture the vibes in “Grapefruit”.

At this point, the crux of my score has materialized in my mind. An interesting way for paper to be passed around and to be read by people is for it be folded into a paper plane, and then unfolded again to be read. This process would repeat. The instructions on the score must be written such that anyone who receives the paper plane are able to continue this process.

The idea that one person can be kind to another person requires some kind of contact. What if the paper plane could be that contact? What if people, upon receiving the paper plane and reading it, write words of their own to pass onward to others?

As the idea crystallized in my mind, I happen to have read the chapter “Food: The Raw and The Fluxed” from “Fluxus and The Essential Questions of Life”. A theme in that chapter is the life cycle of things. How are they born? How do they change? How do they end? The chapter compares food laid on the ground and tin cans. The former decomposes gradually, but the latter endures for what seems to be eternity. My score, if followed faithfully, ensures that it will never end. However, anyone is free to do anything when they receive the paper plane. They could think it is trash and throw it into the bin, or eat it. Or perhaps, the paper plane flies out doors on the ground, and is trampled on by the passerby, and then disintegrated by the weather. Still, anyone who writes on that paper plane and passes it on will never know the fate of that paper plane. In their mind, they could imagine that the paper plane, with their words on it, is somewhere out there, flying.

As a score that requires you to lose authorship over it, the fate of the paper plane can never be known (unless you are the person who ends it). The silver lining is that it is very easy to make this score. Below are how to make it yourself.

The Score (Original Version)

When the paper is folded, the top of the plane reads “OPEN ME”.
When the paper is unfolded, at the center of the paper, there is the set of instructions and some empty space below. There is also some diagrams on how to fold a paper plane.

1. Read the words on this piece of paper.
2. If you have a pen or pencil and there is space on this piece of paper, write down what the next person reading this needs to hear.
3. Fold the paper back up into a paper plane.
4. Throw the paper plane into an area where there are some people.

The Score (Final Version)

When the paper is folded, the top of the plane reads “OPEN ME”.
When the paper is unfolded, the very top reads “PLANE WORDS”. At the center of the paper, there is the set of instructions and some empty space below.

  1. Read the words on this piece of paper.
  2. Write down what the next person reading this needs to hear on this piece of paper.
  3. Fold the paper back up into a paper plane.
  4. Fly the paper plane into an area where there are people.

Changes Rationale

No more paper plane instructions:

  • Less effort to get read the score, less noise on the page.
  • You can’t fold the paper and follow the instructions on that piece of paper at the same time.
  • Balance between “plane” and “words”. The reader can tell that the paper was once a plane from the fold marks. Adding a paper plane diagram instructions will draw attention away from the words on the page, thereby offsetting the balance between the two concepts. Removing those diagrams balances the two concepts.

“Fly” instead of “throw”:

  • How you want to get the paper plane at a different spot is up to you. You can also just leave it somewhere. 
  • More imagination as to how you can get the paper plane at different place

Don’t mention finding a pen or pencil:

  • It’s implicit. Brevity is key, especially when I am trying to have Yoko Ono’s vibes in “Grapefruit”.
  • You can use anything that would leave a mark on the page, like crayons.
  • I am fine with people not writing anything down and passing the paper plane on. The score is a score, not the law.

Adding the title “PLANE WORDS” at the top:

  • Giving something a name allows people to refer to it and talk about it. I would like the score to be talked about.
  • A punny title to make it more memorable and friendly.

Story Time: How It Went Down

It is ironic that I made the score with one of the most readily available materials in the world, and yet, in the classroom, I had to ask someone for paper. (Paper being one of the most readily available material still made it easy to ask people for it.) For that person’s anonymity, I will not mention their name here, but if you are reading this, just know that I am very grateful for it, and your piece of paper was a part of everything I say here.

I had prepared the score, and even wrote my own words on it: “You are beautiful.” Those are words I can never say to a person in the face (perhaps because of deep psychological trauma, or perhaps because I am just shy), and yet, I believe those are simple words that would make just about anyone’s day.

When I actually wanted to try out the paper plane, Boston decided to rain the entire day. Thus, I decided to try out the score in Curry Student Center (CSC). It is strategic in that the space is huge, and there is a vantage point at the top floor where I can fly the paper plane, and then observe the reactions of the people that receive it. I always imagined that this score would be experienced outdoors, but it was a pleasant surprise to see that it also works indoors.

When I first tried to throw the paper plane, it plummeted straight onto the ground (the ground I was standing on, not the bottom floor). I apparently did not fold the paper plane correctly. After spending 15 minutes to fix it, I threw it out. No one had control over where the plane would land, except the laws of Physics. For one reason or another, the paper plane decided to land at the side of CSC where there are arm chairs.

I think there was a sorority event happening at CSC that day, because there were a lot of girls who were well-dressed, wearing the same dress. When I say “a lot”, I mean A LOT, there were rooms full of them. Anyway, I mention this now because the plane landed near people who were dressed for that event.

From my vantage point, I was not able to see how picked up the paper, or what their facial reaction was. But I what I was able to see is very confused faces, and people looking up trying to see where the paper plane came from. The paper plane was left unfolded, faced up, on an arm chair; someone must have read it, and decided to put it down.

For the next two hours, I would sit at a nearby spot, doing my homework, and observe the paper plane.

Nothing happened.

No one gave it heed, no one cared.

The unfolded paper plane sat alone on the chair. Even as swarms of girls (presumably from the sorority event) flood the area, that one chair that the unfolded paper plane was on remain unoccupied. It was as if an invisible barrier had been built around it. One would think that someone would want to sit down, and would lift the piece of paper up, and put it elsewhere, but for some reason, that didn’t happen. It is unsurprising that my score required it being dormant and untouched for long periods of time, but what surprised me was how that paper played a role in that social circumstance. It did not have any power, yet it had all the power to keep a chair to itself.

Eventually, I had to leave to get dinner and attend the Across The Spiderverse concert. As awesome as that movie is, there were times where I couldn’t help but think about what has happened to the plane.

When the event was over and I had gotten back on campus. I tried very hard to get into CSC. Most of the doors were locked, but I was able to find an unlocked door to a connecting building, and then again, several unlocked doors among locked ones to where the paper plane was.

And it was gone. The paper plane had disappeared.

Even as I am writing this now, I ponder where the paper plane is, and the reactions of those who have read it.