Category Archives: Development Log

On errors and objects

20 September 2018Cricoterie, Development LogMichaël Samyn

On the eve of the premiere of Cricoterie in Warsaw.

Computers have a reputation of being sterile machines that only do what you tell them to do. But anyone who has attempted to program knows that in fact they are wild animals that stubbornly resist taming. Software runs on a computer processor in real time. It does things on its own, such as responding to a user’s input. There is a tendency in computer programming to limit the inherent potential for autonomous behavior of software in favor of streamlining the experiences that its human users have with it. But computers are wild beasts and more often than not computer programs will produce errors or bugs. It is when such errors happen that we feel some of the energy that resembles life in our machines.

Inspired by Tadeusz Kantor’s leveling of the distinctions between props and actors on the theater stage, Auriea and I created a program that attempts to demonstrate this strange form of life that takes place on the computer’s processor. After all, every object in realtime 3D is made from the same material: vertices, edges, faces and textures can take the form of a table, a chair, a machine or a person. And yet I do not think of those objects as representations of objects in the real world. Instead I consider them to be objects in the real world themselves. What happens in the computer is part of the real world that we happen in.

Virtual Reality is a technology that allows us to physically enter the realm of software. As opposed to flat screens, VR does not require any imagination. It puts you right in the middle of the virtual world. You don’t need to imagine how big something is or how far away it is. You can simply see it with your own body as reference and walk towards it.

Cricoterie confronts you with objects derived from Kantor’s theater. The behavior of these objects is subjected to the laws of physics. Or at least to a mathematical simulation of these laws, in and of itself a computer program. As a computer program, this simulation is imperfect. It is similar enough to feel familiar to a human user. But things always go wrong. Objects do not fall correctly, they seem too light or too heavy, they intersect with other objects or start shaking violently. I did not program this to happen. But I embrace these errors precisely because they make the objects seem more alive, even if it is a sort of life that may seem alien to us.

I am very proud of Cricoterie. In the way that I might be proud of a pet or a child or a friend. As a creation it approaches more than anything I have made before my feelings about art that uses the computer as its medium. Not for the display of images or the reproduction of sound, or the entertainment of users. But as the creation of a form of life. Or, perhaps, the making visible to humans of the life that exists in cyberspace (akin, perhaps, to how Michelangelo may have felt about a sculpture being contained in a raw block of marble).

All of the environments and characters that Auriea and I have created in our videogames are dear to me. I do not think of them as pictures or symbols that serve the presentation of some concept or story. They are living beings that I am eager to observe and get to know. I delight in the errors that they make, the things they decide to do in spite of my sincere programming attempts to prevent them. To see someone play with Cricoterie is always an adventure. I do not now what is going to happen. And I am immensely curious as to how my creatures will treat the user this time.

This is not to say that there is no vital role to play for the human user. Cricoterie presents objects to you, objects often filled with cultural and social meaning, and lets you manipulate them however you see fit. It is in the confrontation with these objects and specifically in observing your own response to them that the art happens.

While I was creating Cricoterie, I was introduced to Object-Oriented Ontology. OOO is a philosophical school of thought that calls itself realist. By this is meant that, as strangely opposed to a lot of philosophy, it holds that objects exist even when humans are not interacting with them. And everything is an object. Thoughts are objects as much as cans of beer and rocks are. Even feelings, relationships and events are objects. Crucial to OOO is the rejection of the possibility to actually know all there is to know about these objects. Since that would reduce them to an existence that depends on human consideration. This stubborn existence of objects beyond our control demands respect.

Encountering these ideas explained a lot to me about how I feel about the software I create and the virtual objects in it. And also about why I consider this attitude a worthy aspect of art making. Apparently my ideas about software can be expanded to include the world outside of the computer as well. I have always considered the virtual and the real to exist in the same universe. But OOO helped my realize that this is not because the virtual resembles the real but in fact because, on closer inspection, the real resembles the virtual. To understand that this is not a degradation (from life to computer simulation) but rather an opening up to a much broader field of experience (somewhat reminding me of my brief encounter with Buddhism earlier this year) has been eye-opening.

The philosophers in the OOO school will probably scoff at this, but I very much enjoy the mystical qualities that even banal objects acquire in my eyes by existing beyond the grasp of humans. There’s a certain spirituality in this stubborn objecthood of things, a certain peace. If only because it allows God himself to return to our existence in the form of an object, next to all the other objects. Hello, God, how have you been?

―Michaël Samyn.

The Unreal Forest: step 6

17 July 2018Development Log, The Endless ForestMichaël Samyn

Even if progress is made more slowly than we would like, remaking The Endless Forest only becomes more exciting every day. In no small part thanks to the enthusiastic support from the lovely community of players.

We have added and tweaked forest magic, most visibly the ability to pick up flowers from a patch of hyacinths and give them to another deer. This required creating a new system for growing hyacinths, much like the one for creating mushroom circles.

After some searching through our archives, we collected the assets that make up the floor of Phase One of The Endless Forest: meshes and textures. We adapted them to the new tiling system we had created earlier, the system that makes the forest seem endless, and implemented it in Unreal Engine. Back when we had created this floor, shaders barely existed. So we had to come up with all sorts of tricks to get the look we wanted. Since the floor is very big, we needed to tile textures that are much smaller but we wanted to prevent all too visible repetition. And then there’s, of course, the shadows and lights which are also textures. Amusingly, some things that we had set up in the old game but didn’t quite work, now do! The new Endless Forest will not look the same as the old one. But instead of striving to get as close as possible, we will use the new technology (and the old assets) to create something equally beautiful.

Setting up the ground also required the deer to walk over hills and down valleys. We initially set up a system as in the old game that basically checks where the ground is below the deer and then moves the deer there. But then we realized that, as opposed to the old engine, Unreal has a physics simulation built in. So we are now simply using the built-in gravity simulation to keep the deer on the floor. This may break the old bug that allowed some deer to fly. Sorry about that.

We are making maps of the old game to use as a guide for placement of trees, plants and flowers (like the hyacinth patches). We want the forest to feel familiar. But it is virtually impossible to make an exact copy. The systems we used for doing that are integral to the old engine and very opaque. So we’re making an artistic copy rather than an exact one (something like landscape painting). The atmosphere will be the same and things will be more or less where you expect them.

Major features will, of course, be placed exactly where they are now. We found the meshes and textures that make up the church ruin based on the floor plan of the former abbey church in Ename where The Endless Forest was launched. So we created the appropriate materials and implemented it in the remake. It’s good to see it again (although it’s a bit embarrassing to be confronted with the amateurish way it was modeled!).

Remaking things in a new engine is turning out to be a lot more involved than we had anticipated. We have a pretty good system now for retrieving assets. But every element in the game needs to be first researched in the old engine and then rethought for implementation in the new one. Not only does Quest3D work very differently from Unreal Engine, we have also learned a lot about using videogame technology in the past decade. So we want to apply that knowledge. Towards optimizing the game’s performance, for instance (which is the primary requirement for future expansion). Even though I remember struggling over some systems back in the day, sometimes it seems that it takes even more time to re-make them, despite all our experience.

Another reason why progress is slow is that we are also not the young eager game developers that we were back then. We no longer make ourselves sick by working 14 hours a day. We work more efficiently now but that may not make up for raw energy.

And then there are all the other things that we do. We don’t focus on single short-term projects anymore. But instead, we work simultaneously on multiple projects that span many years. One of those is Auriea’s full-time job in the Kunsthochschule in Kassel. Another is Cricoterie, a VR project that will launch in September… until that happens, work on The Endless Forest will be on hold.

In November, on the other hand, there’s a festival in Scotland where The Endless Forest will be featured! It’s organized by some of the people that made the Halloween features in The Endless Forest possible. And this time too, it was they who complete the Second Decade budget. They are interested now in showing both the current game and the remake, in whatever state it will be. We will want to pour some energy into the project to make a good show.

So, expect much excitement in November!

Have a lovely Summer.

―Michaël & Auriea.

Cricoterie: a virtual theater of death

7 April 2018Cricoterie, Development LogMichaël Samyn

Virtual Reality is bound to die. We don’t believe that the technology can survive in the current sociopolitical context. That’s why it provides a perfect medium for a project inspired by theater of Polish artist Tadeusz Kantor (1915-1990). He referred to his work as Theater of Death. Is there a better way of describing Virtual Reality?

Cricoterie is named after Kantor’s theater company Cricot 2. It does not aim to reproduce any particular play or represent Kantor’s work in some way. But it is inspired by his spirit. And many elements are directly taken from stage props and characters that recur in his plays.

It is especially the license to be completely sincere that excites us. A sincerity that exposes its fragility in the absurd and the ridiculous (“cricot” is the reverse of “it’s a circus” in Polish). Kantor’s work is haunted by death and explores the ambiguity offered by the stage between living actors, static characters and limp mannequins. This haunting was illustrated acutely by the director’s persistent presence on the stage during each play. He seemed to surround himself with spectacles from his memories and dreams, a sort of self torture in an desire for catharsis, perhaps.

In Cricoterie the VR user performs the role of the director. Objects and characters are moved and manipulated by virtual hands to create dramatic scenes on a simulated theater stage. A wardrobe supplies a never ending stream of props. Every time you open its doors, a new element appears. Some of these are inanimate objects, others life-size ball-jointed dolls whose life-like eyes stare directly at you, all inspired by Kantor’s world.

In computer simulations such as those presented in Virtual Reality objects are neither alive nor dead. The wooden cross is as alive as the marching soldier. We emphasize this in Cricoterie by driving all animation with physics simulation. The awkwardness of the motions and the many errors this produces greatly intensify the tragedy.

Art residency in Kantor’s former summer residence in southern Poland

The initial prototype for Cricoterie was created during a residency in Kantor’s former summer home in Hucisko, near Krakòw. This VR prototype consisted of a wardrobe on stage from which the user, equipped with VR motion controllers, could grab objects such as a cross, a chair, the bride and a soldier, and move them around on stage. Over the past few weeks, we have added a cage, gallows and a horse skeleton in a wheeled frame (all directly taken from original stage props). A major addition to the interaction in the piece is scaling. By holding a button on the VR controller the scale of the world is increased or reduced. This allows the user to move around with giant steps. And when holding an object while releasing the button, the object retains its relative scale and becomes either tiny or gigantic. The effect is astoundingly dramatic in virtual reality, and almost imperceptible in screenshots.

Tadeusz Kantor: Impossible Monuments (1970)

Cricoterie is an incredibly satisfying project for us. Not only because of the subject matter and the technology but also because of the way we are approaching production. We work more slowly now than we did when we were making videogames (a necessity for our health). This provides a real boost for both motivation and inspiration. We also work “without a script”. Rather than breaking our heads over a grand master plan and then producing many little puzzle pieces towards a glorious end result, we allow the prototype to inspire us and we work in collaboration with the actors and props on the virtual stage. There’s a certain mood that we do strive for, certain rhythms and flows that we want to implement, and long lists of ideas. But we’re not forcing anything. And ideally, for us, this project would never end, and we would just present different stages in its evolution to the public. This permanent state of unfinishedness seems highly appropriate for interactive art, where it is the spectator who creates the spectacle. In this sense, Cricoterie is merely a toolbox, a playset. It’s a stage with props and actors. And you have to make the play.

The Unreal Forest: step 5

3 March 2018Development Log, The Endless ForestMichaël Samyn

We didn’t get as much done in January as we wanted to in the Eternal City. But we made up for that in February at home in Ghent.

All of the Forest Magic has been implemented! So now the deer can collect antler spells (by rubbing a tree and eating the pine cone that fell out), mask spells (by eating mushrooms growing on the side of a tree), pelt spells (by keeping a sleeping deer company) and shape-shifting body spells (by sleeping in a mushroom circle) and cast them on another player to change their appearance with any of the antlers, masks, pelts and bodies in the current game. And the other deer can remove them, by sneezing.

All the deer masks neatly arranged in the Unreal editor.

Finding all the models, textures and sounds required a lot of searching in old files and folders. The Endless Forest was our first release and we only learned how to organize things during its production. To make matters worse, the file server we were using back then had crashed beyond repair. Or so we thought. Thanks to a little program called R-Studio we were able to recover most of the data on that disk.

Adding the antlers, masks and pelts to the remake of the game was fairly straightforward, but the animations of the frog, dove, bat, squirrel, rabbit and raven bodies that the deer can shape-shift into took a bit of extra work. Luckily Unreal Engine is well streamlined for these sorts of jobs.

Little old low poly frog can sit, jump and swim.

The visual effects for spell casting are done in a different, more efficient way than in the old engine. But they look similar enough, if not slightly better (although we’re not exactly working on aesthetics yet).

We’re quite pleased with the progress we’ve made. And wish we could just keep going. But in the next few months some other projects will be demanding our attention too. We will still try to make as much time for The Endless Forest as possible. But we need to be patient.

Our gratitude goes out to all the backers for their support!
You should have received a message about 3D printing the deer models a few weeks ago. The file for printing it yourself will soon be available. We’re running a test on our Ultimaker as we speak.

You can still join the project. The budget for a full remake has nearly been collected. Less than 1000 Euros to go.

―Michaël & Auriea.

The Unreal Forest: step 4

26 December 2017Development Log, The Endless ForestMichaël Samyn

It has been too long since we updated you on our progress remaking the Endless Forest. The main reason is that we have been away from our studio for over half a year due to art residencies in Poland and Italy where we concentrated on other projects.

But that doesn’t mean nothing happened on The Endless Forest. Quite the contrary!

We have extended the tiles of the game world to match the size of the forest of Phase One. We have added proximity detection of trees and the matching rubbing activity. This served the implementation of Forest Magic: when a deer rubs a pine tree, a pine cone falls out. And when the deer eats this pine cone, it gets the magical power to change the look of another deer’s antlers. We have implemented this entire routine so that it can be easily expanded to include the other magical spells, which we will add next month. We have also worked on the action bar with the buttons to make it behave as it does in the current game.

Our art residency in Rome lasts one more month. But we are bringing our computers and file server so we can continue development, even if it only happens at a fraction of our normal speed. If all goes well we should be able to post another update by the beginning of February.

Thank you for your support and your patience. We apologize for our slowness. But please trust that we are fully dedicated to this project. The thought that we will be able to spend more time on it soon makes us glad.

Meanwhile, we hope you’re having the best of holidays and wish you a wonderful 2018, in the Forest and beyond.

—Michaël & Auriea.

The Unreal Forest: step 3

19 May 2017Development Log, The Endless ForestMichaël Samyn

We have implemented some new features in what will one day be the glorious remake of The Endless Forest in Unreal. Some of these can be seen in the video below, taken in the Unreal editor in a local multiplayer session.

The deer now brakes or even sometimes stumbles and falls after running a certain distance. Similarly it now also stretches after sleeping for a long time. And when it is standing idle it will bite its side or scratch its ear once in a while. All of these make the avatar feel much more alive. We have also implemented point-and-click navigation. And have taken the opportunity to smooth out the deer’s motion. We have added the emblematic black border around the screen. For now the only thing it does is scale up when the deer assumes its new alert stance. And finally we have added the logic for the deer to know if any other deer are near, illustrated by the new sniffing functionality.

We’re concentrating on the avatar for the moment because it’s a major part of the game (and a lot of fun to see the deer come alive). But also because it’s something we can do without requiring much network functionality – we’re still hoping that networking (especially the server part) will be made easier in an Unreal update during development.

We have now officially prioritized the remake of The Endless Forest above all other projects. That doesn’t mean other projects will not happen (they certainly will) but that we will not allow them to interrupt work on The Endless Forest. We are still figuring out how to do game development without falling into all the unhealthy traps we experienced before we quit the industry. We’re not giving ourselves deadlines anymore. And we’re allowing ample time for non-professional activities (art and music, most notably). As a result, we will not be producing output with the same hectic frequency as we did before (8 game releases in 12 years!). But our dedication is more sincere than ever.

We will continue to update you on our progress. But if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask (in the comments below, or via email or Twitter).

The Endless Forest fundraiser is gradually collecting the remainder of the budget. We’re only 2331 Euros short of a complete remake.

—Michaël & Auriea

Synthetic Image research in April

25 April 2017Diary, The Synthetic Image research projectMichaël Samyn

Apart from a delightful visit to the National Gallery in London which allowed me to study especially the work of Carlo Crivelli, not much happened this month. I have abandoned the Blender tutorial about modeling a human figure because it felt useless. In an attempt to understand the style of the Old Masters better, I did model a face based on the wonderful Portrait of a Young Woman by Petrus Christus. But while the exercise was useful for technical reasons, I didn’t make me much wiser artistically.

This month I experienced a rather intense “crisis of faith” caused primarily by the realization that I am involved in way too many projects to actually get any satisfying results in any of them. These are all rather elaborate projects and given that I am approaching the age of half a century, I decided to prioritize and focus.

A major factor in my choice of priorities is the contrast between the considerable know-how that I have already acquired and my desire to learn new things. It would be wasteful to not apply and deepen the skills I possess in favor of becoming an amateur at something new (like 3D modeling). Of course working with computers implies a certain level of continuous learning. But I want to stop trying to do everything in favor of actually getting something done.

I have realized that, while I enjoy research and study, not actually creating and working towards a release frustrates me immensely. And it causes a vicious circle where research increasingly feels like it is holding me back, rather than informing creation. Having a multitude of things on my mind renders it unclear what I should be doing next. The result is in fact very often procrastination, to escape the insecurity I presume. But given the overload of work, of course losing time only aggravates the problem.

I still intend to create the diorama of the Archangel Michael, but I will attempt to do so applying mostly skills that I already possess. After all, the goal of this project is to create a scene that encourages contemplation, in the way of the art of the Old Masters, and not for me to learn how to model better. I think I possess enough know-how to make something interesting. And the research that I have been doing, especially of Old Master art, will allow me to redirect this know-how towards this new goal.

So far my creative life has been focused on things that bring joy to others. But as the age of fifty approaches, the importance of things that bring me joy is growing. They started as hobbies vital to my mental balance while creating for others, and also inspiring creatively. But I feel that half a century of working for other people earns me the right to indulge myself a little in the time I have left. So yes, I will continue to learn music and practice classical guitar, and I will devote more time to projects that I feel especially passionate about, even if they may not be of any use to anybody else.

Ironically, having a much clearer structure in my life, and a sense of priorities, may end up being the only way to actually make all of the things on my list anyway. In my experience, creative satisfaction in one project can motivate and inspire others. While lack of focus reduces the possibility any creative output at all.

With many projects going on simultaneously, it’s easy to become cynical. I may deeply care for all of them but when they don’t live up to my expectations, as a direct result of spreading my energy thin, I lose courage. Dedication will allow me to pay attention to all aspects of a project. Not just the broad strokes. And I think that can be highly rewarding.

The main focus with Tale of Tales has been on the medium of videogames. Each one of our creations was a stepping stone, an experiment in a different direction, to see what could happen there with that medium. We were dedicated to that exploration more than to any project in particular. And while that is perfectly understandable in such an under-explored context, it doesn’t necessarily make for the best possible art.

While in Brussels for a classical guitar festival, I noticed that the top of city hall is decorated with a golden Archangel Michael. So I leave you with this image search result page that inspires the next step in the project.

— Michaël Samyn.

Save

An Italian Primitive in London

21 April 2017The Synthetic Image research projectMichaël Samyn

The National Gallery in London was on my list of places to visit for The Synthetic Image research project because I wanted to see Carlo Crivelli’s picture of Saint Michael, of which I have studied a reproduction in detail. As always, of course, there were many other works to enjoy as well. But also one disconcerting experience.

An entire wing of the museum is filled with paintings from the era that I’m most interested in. The Sainsbury Wing to the side of the main building on Trafalgar Square is dedicated to paintings from 1200 to 1500. Room 59 is almost exclusively devoted to the work of Carlo Crivelli. Crivelli is a bit of an exception in the reference collection for The Synthetic Image project, and indeed Cathedral-in-the-Clouds as a whole. Most of the project is inspired by the work of Flemish Primitives but Crivelli is Italian. Yet it’s difficult to imagine he wouldn’t have been familiar with the work of Van Eck and Van der Weyden. There are very strong correlations in terms of subject matter, aesthetic style and expression. But Crivelli adds a nice dose of Italy in the mix. So much so that when I entered the gray room in the museum I couldn’t help but feel that the golden masterpieces really belong in a sunnier climate.

Many of Crivelli’s works are altarpieces. The National Gallery displays the gilded woodwork that frames one of them. It made me wonder about the craftspeople responsible for this marvelous aspect of the work. Especially the many three-dimensional elements in Crivelli’s paintings create a strong connection with the frames.

Saint Michael is displayed within its frame as well. But sadly not in the complete altarpiece it once belonged to, even though three other parts of this altarpiece are on display in the same room. Being in its physical presence allowed me to answer some questions I had when perusing the photographic reproduction. The headband of the angel is indeed three-dimensional, for instance, with what looks like a real gem on his forehead. But I also experienced something a lot less enjoyable.

Nothing. I felt nothing when I saw Crivelli’s Saint Michael in the flesh. I had made myself so thoroughly familiar with a reproduction of the piece that the real thing felt closed to me. I guess I usually “open up” artworks by exploring them. Looking at different elements and interpreting them functions as the opening of windows and doors, or as removing layers of clothing. Bit by bit the artwork allows me to enter, and I am transported. But with Saint Michael I had already done a lot of this work at home, albeit not with the same aesthetic effect. So I guess my mind was like “Been there done that”. I have similar feelings for the Mona Lisa or the Nike of Samothrace. I don’t seem to be able to see those very famous works of art. I look at them and nothing happens, no matter how hard I try.

This reminded me of an essay that I read a long time ago, when postmodern thinking had made it pertinent again in the 1980s. In The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction (published in 1935), Walter Benjamin talks about an aura that surrounds physical objects and that seems to be affected by photographing them. The more photographs are taken of something, the less impressive it becomes. Or that’s at least what my young mind got out of the essay. I’ll reread it one of these days.

Ironically the reason why we were able to go to London this time was to speak at a symposium about the preservation of digital art organized by Rhizome and Google Arts & Culture. The latter, of course, is deeply involved in meticulously photographing and distributing mechanical reproductions of art and museums. As an art fan, I applaud this to some extent, but my experience with Saint Michael and Walter Benjamin’s observation do make me wonder if they are not basically destroying all art.

Luckily there were many other Crivelli’s in the room. And even in their dry London presentation (compared to the drama of the Crivelli room in the Pinacoteca di Brera), being able to explore these works in person is always a feast. Strangely I had discovered Crivelli’s work only a few years ago. Somehow he doesn’t belong to the cannon that is taught in art school. And his work does indeed not fit very easily in the nicely linear story that art history often tries to be. It’s very clear to see why, though. Art history has a tendency to elevate masters from the past whose work displays some relationship with modern art. The golden, mystical atmosphere of Crivelli with his grumpy saints and refined lines and postures isn’t exactly the kind of stuff that would have inspired Cézanne or Manet. Although surely the surrealists must have adored the strange gherkins and apples that randomly populate almost all of Crivelli’s pieces.

Next to the typical depictions of saints and virgins for polyptychs, the National Gallery also shows his striking Annunciation with Saint Emidius. I was surprised by the size of this work. It’s two meters tall! In reproduction it somehow feels like a miniature. What a glorious picture! It’s a very odd annunciation scene that shows part of a city street that anyone who has visited Italy will find familiar. Virgin Mary is just one of the people who live in this town and God sends his spirit to her through a conveniently located little window which turns parts of the wall around it gold. It’s a strange and puzzling piece that has your eyes continuously bouncing from one element to the next. Especially the symbolism of birds and cages is particularly amusing in the context of the immaculate conception.

All the Crivelli’s in this room are beautiful! I was very moved by The Dead Christ supported by Two Angels, especially because baby looks so sad!

It’s wonderful to see how well Crivelli’s work has been preserved. Most of his pictures appear bright and sharp to us, with very few cracks. Maybe this is because they hung in cool dark churches most of the time. Or perhaps he painted on top of a layer of gold leaf. Paintings on metal tend to preserve much better than on canvas. I understand that the mobility of canvas offers great advantages but the wood that the Primitive Masters painted on is just a superior surface. Not only because it tends to preserve better, but also because it’s even, so we just see the picture not some woven texture. I guess this is another thing that relates the old paintings to work in the digital medium: a clean flat surface.

Many of Crivelli’s figures look down. Saint Michael has a reason for that as he’s keeping his eyes on Lucifer beneath his feet. But the others just seem immersed in thought. They make no eye contact with the spectator but invite them to join in their meditation. And although it is especially striking in Crivelli’s depictions, this is not unique. It is in fact rather common for “primitive” painters to depict characters with half open eye lids. This adds a lot to the feeling of intimacy of such works and encourages us to imagine a sensual connection with the scene rather than only a visual one. It draws us into the work.

I feel like some kind of patriot. In every museum I visit, I look for the Flemish masters. I love looking through the windows in such paintings in a foreign land and seeing views of what could be my home town of Ghent. In fact, our apartment is just around that corner! The National Gallery houses two beautiful Virgin and Child pictures, one by Memling and another by Bouts. I was moved by the contrast between the silent posture of the virgin and the brilliant golden rays behind her head in Memling’s picture. And Bouts reminded me that we can have fun with such elevated themes. A tender loving sort of fun. Not mockery or irony. Gentle, sympathetic. Baby Jesus seems to be laughing as Mary offers her nipple.

As always I found several other depictions of Saint Michael in the museum, or of his counterpart Saint George. In the light of my decision to follow the path of mystery, I was particularly drawn to the depiction of the devil (or the dragon) as a grotesque monster. To our modern eyes, their ridiculousness is very challenging. It is hard not to laugh with such a silly looking creature. But if you think about the history of evil people, or indeed very recent events in politics, doesn’t evil often appear as a clown?

In a rather unique depiction of Saint Michael, by Piero della Francesca, the angel actually kills the devil, having cut off the head of a serpent. The serpent that seduced Eve in the Garden of Eden presumably, which is Lucifer in disguise. It’s extremely rare to see Michael commit such violence. Usually he just subdues the devil, pushes him into hell (or onto earth!). Maybe he cannot kill him. Maybe God won’t allow it.

It’s a fascinating topic that I hope I can do justice in my own piece.

—Michaël Samyn.

Save

The Path of Mystery

6 April 2017The Synthetic Image research projectMichaël Samyn

I can enjoy art that emerges from such tendencies. I like how already in the late renaissance and definitely in the baroque era and the 19th century, artists interpret traditional themes in very personal ways. But none of those make me feel what the work by the Flemish Primitives and some other medieval and early renaissance artists do. I delight in the spectacle of the baroque and even salon painting and sculpture. But I am deeply moved by the sincerity and mystery in -slightly- older work.

So I have decided that, at least for the diorama of Archangel Michael that I am creating for Cathedral-in-the-Clouds in the context of the Synthetic Image research project, I will attempt to delve deeper into the mystery. To reject my modern tendencies and to follow my passionate heart (not my clever brain), even if I don’t understand where it is taking me. Curiously this requires me to think less, to invent less, and to accept traditional ideas about depiction.

The one huge caveat in this idea is that our times are drastically different from the Middle Ages. Particularly with respect to faith. Being so intensely immersed in a mysterious religion must have been a tremendous help for artists to imbue their work with sensitivity and depth. We don’t live in such times now. We have no solid shared belief in an immaterial world of gods and angels. Saints have become freaks that fascinate rather than models we admire. We think of ourselves as cartographers of the universe. Rather than of the universe as an unknowable whirlpool of which we know we form a part in an order that exceeds our understanding.

We live simultaneously in more emotional and less emotional times. We respond quickly to extreme stimuli but are insensitive to things that are hard to grasp, that escape us, that are so vast that their slowness makes them almost unperceivable to us. But if we find the silence in ourselves we can sense in the very tips of our capacities our connection to it.

I want to create work that helps us find this stillness. Work that is not extroverted, or clever, or ironic. Work that is not personal, that does not seek admiration for its creator (it is no coincidence that the name of many medieval artists is not even known to us). Work that is still. Majestic in its modesty. This does not mean distant, or cerebral, or ethereal. Physical sensuality is very much a part of this experience. We have bodies. We know fruits, the air, the landscape. We know stories, places, we are connected, not only to the spiritual world but also to the material one.

The concept of Paradise might be key here, the Garden of Eden that we forever seek to return to, but that we never really left. It is still there, underneath whatever we have created with our Knowledge of Good and Evil. The plants, the animals, humans, the wind. Our voices, our poems, our music. We are still in Paradise! And we can find it again through art. Not as an escape but as firm ground.

Maybe that is what faith is. Firm ground. The gods, the myths, the legends, they are all true. They are ways to imagine the unimaginable. Like three-dimensional realities drawn on a two-dimensional plane. Not fantasies, not even symbols. They are true. They are doors, pathways, connections. Without them we would be lost. Without them we are lost.

Mystery is an inadequate word because it implies vagueness, a lack of knowing, a lack of familiarity. But what I feel in the presence of great art is the exact opposite. Mystery is clarity. To know is but a game on the surface. Mystery is solid and strong and we are very closely and intimately connected to it. We are children of this mystery. And like children we don’t need to understand why or how. We accept. We love.

This is not the easiest path. It leads away from success, away from applause, away from sympathetic smiles and fond expressions of gratitude. I know I could make something cool and contemporary based on ancient themes. And there will be opportunities for that too. But in this particular case, I have chosen the path of mystery, the one that is even hard to see and impossible to know where it leads. Not for adventure, because I’m not expecting any of this to become clear at any point. But for devotion, as a prayer, as an exercise in submission.

The Unreal Forest: step 2

31 March 2017Development Log, The Endless ForestMichaël Samyn

This is a little report to keep you up to date on our progress remaking The Endless Forest in Unreal. In the video you can see how we have set up several crucial pieces of logic that only need to be expanded to approach a full remake.

We have added mouse controls for navigation similar to how it works in the current game. So now we can play with either mouse or keyboard. We have also implemented camera controls that approach the original. Both need fine tuning of course.

A major part of this step has been the beginning of the button bar at the bottom of the screen that you use for making the deer do things. We had to learn about how User Interface is done in Unreal (somehow game engines always manage to make creation of UI extremely convoluted). So now we can make the deer sleep, get up, sit down and roar with the button bar dynamically responding to the context. For this we figured out how to trigger animations through button clicks and made it work over the network too (which requires quite a few steps). The roar action also involved adding morphing for the deer to open his mouth and 3D sound (the first sound in the remake is roar!). All this new knowledge will come in handy when developing things further!

At one point we managed to run a multiplayer game over both the local network and the internet. But the last time we tried it was broken again. It still works in the editor though so we will focus on other things for now. Hopefully a future update of Unreal Engine will improve how networking is done. If not, we may need some external help.

We’re quite happy with the progress we’ve made. Next month we need to focus on a commissioned project with a rather tight deadline. So the third progress report on The Unreal Forest may take a bit longer. Do keep an eye on Twitter, where we share most of what’s going on here. And don’t hesitate to contact us if you have any questions.

Remaking The Endless Forest was made possible thanks to your generous contributions to the IndieGogo campaign and the private fundraiser. It is still possible to join, and get some of the cool perks like special deer outfits and 3D prints of your very own avatar.