STOCKHOLM (FRIA TIDER). A macabre scene with racist undertones took place on Saturday when Swedish minister of culture Lena Adelsohn Liljeroth attended a tax funded party for the Stockholm cultural elite. The self-proclaimed “anti-racist” Liljeroth declared the party officially started by slicing a piece of a cake depicting a stereotypical African woman.

Oh, but it gets better – soooo much better. Because the whole thing is supposed to be a comment on female genital mutilation, Liljeroth sliced the cake from where the woman’s clitoris would be while the artist whose actual head, in blackface, was on top of the cake, screamed in mock pain.  Now THAT takes some serious chutzpah! The pictures have to be seen to be believed, but what truly takes the cake (if you will) is the video, which is below. Warning, it’s not for the faint of heart:

I find this whole thing interesting on so many levels. My high school English teacher, who happens to be black, was deeply offended by this episode, seen as it was through the lens of a conservative online rag that was jumping at the opportunity to savage a government official of which it didn’t approve. (Choice quotes include “The shocking photos show several established left-wing members of the Stockholm cultural elite watching and laughing as Minister of Culture Lena Adelsohn Liljeroth slices a cake depicting a black African woman with minstrel-esque face.”) His Facebook friends all felt the same way, at least those who commented, and I imagine many readers of this blog will as well.

The full story is a bit more complicated, however. The artist, a fellow by the name of Makode Linde who is no less black than Barack Obama, turns out to specialize in “revamping the blackface into a new historical narrative” by exaggerating racist stereotypes to grotesque extremes. In the Skype interview below with Robert Mackey of the New York Times‘s The Lede, Linde claims that he is interested in “problematizing racism” and defends the organizers of the World Arts Day event for which he created the cake sculpture.

For her part, Liljeroth has refused to resign over the incident and posted a statement on the Ministry of Culture website that reaffirms her commitment to free expression, averring that “art must…be allowed room to provoke and pose uncomfortable questions.”

Wow. Before we go further, let’s take a moment to consider this: can you imagine the shitstorm that would have ensued if Rocco Landesman had found himself mixed up in something like this? Folks, this is why the NEA does not support individual artists. This, right here. Exhibit A. Trust me, it’s better this way.

Anyway, to the piece itself. Aside from disgust and revulsion, the other dominant response I’ve observed so far is the one from defenders of the work like New York Times commenter Brian, who writes that “The piece, the reaction to it, the reaction to the reaction…all of this is part of what makes this ‘art’.” I see where Brian’s coming from, and obviously the fact that I’ve decided to write a blog post about it counts as evidence that it’s been successful in provoking dialogue. But I’m not sure that it’s the kind of dialogue that the artist had in mind. He complains himself in the Skype interview about the images being taken “out of context,” but how could they not be? Has he not heard of Facebook? The fact that this has apparently taken the folks involved by surprise is mind-boggling to me.

My problem with art that deliberately sets out to shock is that, all too often, it’s just bad art. I believe in respecting an artist’s intent, but assuming the label of “artist” doesn’t let one off the hook for accountability. If the intent is to shock, my question is “to what end?” It’s not a rhetorical question. Is it to raise awareness of some important social issue? To gain attention for the artist himself? Or just for the sheer thrill of seeing the shock you’ve created on other people’s faces? Some of these goals are more virtuous than others, and frankly sometimes I’m not so sure where the real motivation lies. But even assuming a virtuous goal, we have to ask the question of whether it succeeded or not. Has this raised awareness of female genital mutilation, and in anything resembling a helpful way? It seems to have raised awareness of Lena Adelsohn Liljeroth more than anything else.

But, in fairness, I’m open to being convinced. Digging around for material on this turned up some pretty racist stuff on Swedish websites, so maybe it will ultimately be successful in driving a dialogue about that rather than FGM. And the piece does raise some fascinating questions, even if unintentionally. Like the one in the title of this post, for example. Can art that’s supposed to be ironic in its racism end up being earnestly racist by accident? That seems to be what has happened here, at least judging by the reaction of my former teacher and his friends. Not to even mention the whole man-acting-out-female-genital-mutilation bit – all I can say is that someone’s going to have a lot of fun writing their critical race theory/gender studies dissertation chapter on this whole mess.

[UPDATE: here’s another perspective, the most interesting I’ve found from among many others that are out there.]

So why is everyone suddenly talking about games? Put simply, the immense growth of the video and social gaming industry is inspiring innovators across many sectors to ask how they might hitch themselves to this rising star. In 2011, video and computer games became the U.K.’s biggest entertainment sales category at 40.2% of the market, beating out music and video. The Entertainment Software Association notes the following staggering statistics about the 2010 U.S. market:

• Consumers spent $25.1 billion on video games, hardware, and accessories in 2010.
• 72% of U.S. households play computer or video games.
• 42% of all game players are women. In fact, women over the age of 18 represent a significantly greater portion of the game-playing population (37%) than boys age 17 or younger (13%).
• In 2011, 29% of Americans over the age of 50 played video games, an increase from 9% in 1999.

Note: Sales numbers provided here include console and PC sales only; the $25.1 billion sales total for 2010 provided by the Entertainment Software Association includes a broader range of video/online games.

The implications of this data extend far beyond the screens that limit video games to the virtual world—their newfound cultural ubiquity means that huge numbers of the population can now more easily recognize tropes and imagery from video games in real-world settings. The tools of the online gaming world (getting points for accomplishments, ascending in level, unlocking achievements, and participating virtual social circles) have become powerful ways to engage an audience for any organization, whether an arts nonprofit or a private company.  Foursquare is just one well-known example of this phenomenon, as participants receive points and other rewards for visiting a particular venue in real life.

Academics and game designers have generated a number of theories about the power of these kinds of games. Jane McGonigal, probably the most visible representative of this cohort, has made a name for herself arguing that games can literally make the world a better, happier place by harnessing their power in the service of solving real-world problems, from bodily injury to oil shortages. In his review of her recent book, Reality Is Broken, Ian Bogost argues that games allow for engagement with real-world problems by providing complex modes of inquiry rather than clear solutions. Finally, folks like Jesse Schell imagine a terrifying future in which nearly every activity we undertake is part of a game in which we accumulate points via specially-designed sensors. These are powerful ideas, and they are continuing to gain traction as technology allows for the omnipresence of games in our lives through smartphones, ultralight computers, tablets, wireless internet, and even Schell’s toothbrush sensors.

While games can clearly serve numerous social, educational, or marketing goals, the debate over whether they might form a legitimate arts genre rages on.  Roger Ebert famously thinks not, and undoubtedly not all games should be considered art, since most are created primarily as products to be sold to a mass audience. However, more and more institutions are placing at least certain kinds of games on the art pedestal. In just the past few years, Georgia Tech has co-hosted an Art History of Games conference, the Computerspielemuseum (Museum of Computer Games) opened in Berlin, and the Grand Palais in Paris hosted the Game Story exhibition; in May, MoMA will host a program titled “The Game as an Art Form.” This proliferation is rooted in games’ fundamental resemblance to conceptual art in which the audience, or player, is integral to the work. One can cite a range of work in this vein, including Yoko Ono’s instructional Grapefruit, Allan Kaprow’s performances, a great deal of the art produced for Burning Man, and Punchdrunk’s ongoing Sleep No More production. Other pieces like Manchester street artist Filthy Luker’s playable Space Invaders installation pay more direct homage to popular games.

Filthy Luker's Space Invaders installation. Credit: Duncan Hull.

Arts organizations stand to gain a great deal from refining their relationship to video and real-world games. As games industry growth outpaces already-recognized art forms like music and video, institutions should certainly incorporate games into a larger marketing or audience engagement strategy to stay relevant. But beyond that, arts organizations can positively affect the trajectory of games in culture through serious investment in programs like commissions, residencies, or cross-sector collaborations. When music and video became dominant entertainment forms, they were embraced and challenged by artists willing to push the boundaries of popular practice, and arts institutions can and should encourage the same evolution in games.