Those who have known me for a while know that I’m not the best at hiding my latent pretensions when it comes to the topics of art and philosophy. I was originally accepted into USC as a philosophy major and aspired to become an archaeologist. I cry when I visit museums — I apologize to the tourists who witnessed my open weeping at the Uffizi Gallery — and enjoy casually analyzing literature, cinema and art with my friends. I know I sound insufferable, but please save your boos of disapproval for the end of the article.

I only write this introduction to communicate a crude familiarity with the intersection of art and philosophy — or rather, the existence of an exclusive club many academics (those far more annoying than me) have coined “high art.” For many, this clique of artistic work only allows members from the following seven categories to join: painting, sculpture, architecture, literature, cinema, performance and music.

If you have your critical-thinking cap on, you’ve already spotted something evidently missing from that list of worthy art forms — interactive media. Numerous academics and critics still exclude video games from their classification of high art. Honestly, this should not be surprising, due to the relentless negative press and hate campaigns waged against games that began haunting the medium in the 1980s. Granted, this media panic spanned far more than just interactive media — think “Satanic Panic” — but it only stuck to games past Y2K. 

Though some would claim otherwise, interactive media is far from a nascent art form. Arguably, the first game was made in 1958 by a nuclear physicist who helped J. Robert Oppenheimer in his quest to develop a nuclear warhead. Since then, video games have only continued to rocket forward, propelled by advancements in technology, art and storytelling.

As early as the 1980s, some began to notice the artistic potential of interactive media. Titles such as “Moondust” (1983), “EarthBound” (1994), “Baldur’s Gate” (1998) and “The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time” (1998) enraptured players with more than just mechanics meant to entertain — clearly, the games were trying to say something through their narrative, art and music.

The use of a term such as high art implies a binary, or rather, the existence of “low art.” This is my main issue with such an approach to art appreciation and analysis. Critics and academics view interactive media as low art as they reside on a pedestal, forced to look down their noses to even see the medium.

Video games have always been on the periphery of critics — never directly in their line of sight — because they turn their heads away from games every time they enter their vision. If you navigate to the websites of any publications with respected arts & entertainment criticism such as The New York Times and the Los Angeles Times, most of the time you won’t find a games tab on the front page. Many of those uneducated about the artistic potential of video games only think of games as mind-numbing pastimes rather than Metropolitan Museum-worthy artworks.

It is human nature to categorize things. I can tell you my star sign and Myers-Briggs quicker than my blood type (Pisces, ENTP). I do not hate the existence of high art categorization, I simply disagree with the way art is classified as such. Limiting high art to the aforementioned seven art forms not only restricts the evolution of art as a concept but also locks deserving artworks out of critical and academic recognition. Sure, art is entirely subjective and high art is in the eye of the viewer, but I would like to see interactive media receiving formal critical recognition from the art world.

To me, games are a pinnacle of artistic expression and evolution. They marry many pillars of art, as film does, but have the advantage of viewer interaction, which opens countless doors that remain shut for other mediums. Music, visual art, literature, cinema and performance are all arguably facets that contribute to the creation of a game. Between score, dialogue, acting, cutscenes and other factors, games are the ultimate amalgamations of artistic potential.

Not every game is high art. Again, since art is subjective, I can’t objectively say what is and isn’t high art — that is for you to decide. But, titles such as “Disco Elysium” (2019), “Elden Ring” (2022) and “Outer Wilds” (2019) would be my personal picks to kick off a new era of interactive high art analysis. Each of these titles blew me away with their art, scores, gameplay and narrative, and I am certain if an art critic got their hands on one, they would agree.

Aubrie Cole is a junior writing about video games in her column, “Downloadable Content,” which runs every other Tuesday. She is also an arts & entertainment editor at the Daily Trojan.