HNRS 353

Upon reading the assigned articles for the week, I was struck by how little I had previously appreciated the music, or really any sound for that matter, in video games. Sure, I’d always noticed that if I was playing Kirby, and I was trying to inhale something that there was a specific whirring noise associated with it, but I never gave it much thought. Upon looking closer, I notice how, as Zach Whalen says, certain music and sounds do “draw [me] forward through the sequence of gameplay” as well as how it can make the game world more vividly real. It was interesting to think about the noises that characters make when they run and try to jump to another ledge, and, how partially based on the sound, I know whether or not they will fall before it happens in the game world. I also know whether or not I’ve unlocked a new ability (for example gaining a new soul in Castlevania), or if I’ve leveled up (for example when you fulfill your experience points in Pokemon).

After thinking about music in games, I thought that it was interesting to reflect upon the relation of music to mood. In cinema, if you turn off the sound for a scary movie, often times it is no longer as scary. When we watched the trailer for Dead Island last week, the first trailer we saw was very sad. The second didn’t cue up the sounds properly, which was disorienting. However, when we watched the same trailer with semi-sung commentary, we all laughed hysterically. Granted, he was saying funny things, but the same visual was completely changed by the audio.

One last thing I wanted to touch on was the evolution of music in video games. The 8-bit loop that Karen Collins discusses at length in her article was mainly constrained by technological problems like not having enough memory, however, this forced game designers and composers of 8-bit music (there didn’t appear to be a lot of them, if any) to be more creative to work well with what they had. If you look at that, and then think that Civilization 4  had the first song created for a video game to win a Grammy, you see a huge change. Do you think that that has more to do with technological advances, or do you think that it might have something to do with the evolution of more narrative driven games?

Music seems to serve a lot of variable functions in video games. While there are diegetic and non-diegetic elements of music in games, it also acts to create an atmosphere for the game. Some games are more stressful, such as the example of Silent Hill, while other games are more relaxing at times, like Ocarina of Time or Mario Brothers, according to Whalen. What I considered about music and sound in games is how visuals become inherently connected to aural sensations. For instance, one of the main features in the definition of Uncanny Valley is that the movements of the animated characters do not quite match to the sounds they are making, just as how singers lose impact when they lip-synch, particularly if they lip-synch poorly. In my experience, sometimes when my computer starts to act up the speakers don’t work properly and this jars the gaming experience. Without the correct music happening at the correct time, the game loses some of its appeal and the flow I once had for it. Maybe it’s just me, but music helps me grok the game better, if simply because there is a certain pattern in the music that corresponds to the game. As a classically trained pianist, I have a similar experience when I’m playing a piece and, in missing one important note, the entire flow of the piece is ruined.

In your past, has music either positively or negatively affected your gameplay? Aside from the obvious choices of Guitar Hero or Rock Band.

Whalen, in his article on music and video games, brings out one aspect in particular which he describes as “mickey mousing”.  This effect is basically the synchronization of certain events or activities in a game and the music that accompanies them.  Whalen uses the example of Mario’s jumping sound contrasting it when Mario is small and when he is super Mario.  The game plays a “bouncing” sound that many people associate with a jump or an upward motion.  The goal of this is to increase a players immersion in the game by having the music respond to what the player would do in a way that the player would expect.

This reminded me of the part of any Zelda game when the character opens a chest.  Chest’s always contain good items and they are associated with a slowly increasing triumphant set of chords that culminate in a trumpet blast.

This music combines with a slow camera rotation around Link as he opens the chest and then holds the item aloft.  The music definitely adds to the feeling of accomplishment or success when Link gains another item.  Once my friend had this sound as his ring tone and when I heard it in a different context from the game it still gave me that feeling of accomplishment.

Do you think that playing the game made me associate this sound with discovery and completion, or did I already associate the sound with good feelings?

What if the same action were performed to a different sound, or an anti-sound like a dirge?  Would I associate the action with the same feelings?

In what other more modern games do you see the concept of mickey mousing?

The Crossing, by Ferry Halim, is a game in which the player must use a sliding platform to allow the deer go from one side of the stream to the other. If you miss, the deer will then fall, and then die. Even though the actual death of the deer is not seen, it is known to be coming. This adds more emotion than just having a ball, since it is a representation of a living animal. When I missed a deer, I immediately thought of Bambi, which is known to have emotion about deer.

It is as if Pong was given a new skin and became only a one-sided game. Instead of having a ball, there are deer, and instead of having the deer be influenced in their direction by the sliding platform, the platform is just helping them move in their own predetermined direction.

The Crossing does not have a goal other than not letting the deer die and to let them cross the stream. There is no specific “ending”, other than when you get a game over. You just keep playing until you lose.

I believe that this is more of a showcase for the non-diegetic music in the game. The orchestral music is very meditating and soothing. But because of the music, the player does not feel like they necessarily have to reach a goal or complete the task – the music does not punish you for missing a deer nor does it reward you for not missing a deer.

The song for the video can be found here. The song just keeps playing over and over again. It starts once you start playing the game, and it does not stop until you exit the site or go to a different page of the site. Even when you lose, the song keeps playing, and when you play the game again, it just keeps continuing. There is also no option to turn the sound off from the site, meaning that it was intended for the player to hear the song while playing. The only way to not hear the song is to mute your computer.

Before reading Whalen’s article on music in videogames, I did not give much thought to the music I hear while playing a game. I knew that certain beats, tempos, and rhythms elicited certain emotions in me, like fear, happiness, and agitation, but I never really thought of how the music altered my mood. Truly, this aspect of game design helps immerse a player in the game world and, as Whalen suggests, causes one to be “…blissfully unaware of one’s surroundings and the passing of time”. I can think of many times that I have been so immersed in a game that when I finally pause, I am surprised to see that four or five hours have passed since I began playing. This brings me to my first question: have any of you found yourself in a similar situation of total immersion while playing a video game?

Continuing on, three games are examined in this article: Super Mario Brothers, Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, and Silent Hill. With Super Mario Brothers, Whalen describes how an increase in the music’s tempo signals to players that time is running out. This brings me to my second question: if you were to play Super Mario Brothers without sound, do you think you would notice the timer more or less? For myself, I would feel compelled to look at the timer more often, since I would not have any audio cues to alert me. Others, though, might forget about the timer until it is too late.

In his analysis of Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time and Silent Hill, Whalen discusses how a change in music can alert players to an approaching danger or villain. Sometimes this is integral to survival, as in Silent Hill, and other times it is supplementary to the player’s own view of the game space, as in Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. I also found it interesting that Whalen believed that survival horror games must “sustain a consistent and pervasive mood of terror or apprehension in the player”. Since I have never played a survival horror game (I have only watched someone else do so), I ask those of you who have if you agree or disagree with this statement. Can you think of any horror games that have “happy” or “uplifting” music, even if it is only for a small portion of the game?

Finally, if you all have the time, I urge you to go to this website and listen to the sound clips posted by Gnik. Afterwards, describe the emotions you felt while listening to each. I think it will be interesting to see if most of us feel the same or different about the music. Also, do you think you would feel a stronger emotion if you were able to see the scenery that accompanies the sound?