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dr-m-r-ma · 5 years

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Jealousy / Lies

Part 19/20

Genre: drama, angst, romance Rating: PG-13 Group: Monsta X

In the previous chapter: Jooheon drops a mixtape behind Starship’s and Monsta X’s backs, with lyrics related to Yoonjin. While Yoonjin doesn’t know the chaos that came about from the mixtape, SeulA apologizes to Yoonjin sincerely.

Disclaimer: This is 100% fictional and my own story. It is unrelated to the actual events and real persons of Monsta X and Starship. In regards to this particular fic, I’ve created new K-Pop groups (they don’t exist) so I don’t have to study up on other people and to avoid other complications. Parts will be written in Korean with English translations. I did not major/study in English/Korean, nor was I ever strong in English/Korean grammar, so there will be grammatical mistakes. This fanfic is written in third person and past-tense for ease of writing.

After SeulA left, the door closed and Yoonjin was enveloped in darkness once again. However, this time, she had her phone with her. It was still on the video, unplayed, and Yoonjin stared at her phone blankly. She could simply pretend to have not seen it and close out of the app… or she could watch it and see what it’s about.

Curiosity won over when she noticed the number of views and comments attached to the video. As her eyes darted past a few comments mentioning her name, she nervously pressed play.

Different from his other mixtapes and solo tracks, the song started off with a soft piano. Just a simple intro, then Jooheon’s low voice rapped the first verse. Just the sound of his voice made Yoonjin’s heart jump and it took her all to keep calm and concentrate. His voice stayed quiet and low, making it sound intimate. She focused her eyes on the lyrics, and gasped, realizing why it garnered such a chaotic reaction.

Her eyes teared up at his lyrics, reflecting against her sad, cold lyrics. His words paired with the piano that started to crescendo into more intensely emotional tunes overwhelmed Yoonjin as she clutched one hand on her sheets.

She scrolled down to read more of the comments, and when many of them discussed the letter from Monsta X’s fan cafe, she couldn’t hold back her curiosity. As soon as the song finished, she quickly pulled up the fan cafe, having been a member of it every year. There, she saw the letter. Scanning through the document he uploaded, Yoonjin’s tears spilled over. Even as she read the document over and over again, she remembered the messages each member of Monsta X sent her previously. Add SeulA’s apology speech, Yoonjin thought maybe she was too harsh on Jooheon.

‘어쩌면… 말을 들었으면… 근데 그때 믿었을까?’ (Translation: ‘Maybe… if I listened to him… but would I have believed him at that time?’) Her thoughts contradicted each other, knowing well that at the time, too many things were happening and it was all confusing her. Her fingertips hovered over his phone number, wondering if she should call him. Was she being too easy to be swayed by this? Or was she being selfish for thinking this way?

*Bzzt* *Bzzt*

Her eyes grew wide, staring at her phone.

주HONEY (Jooheon):할말있어. 내 작업실에서 만나. 마지막으로 부탁할게… 20:06 (Translation: I have something to say. Let’s meet at my studio. I’ll ask you this one last time… 8:06pm)

Without thinking twice, Yoonjin bolted from her bed and threw on a thick coat. Making sure she had enough money to take the cab, she threw her phone in her wallet and rushed out.

“--앗!! 야! 어디가?!” (Translation: “--ah!! Hey! Where are you going?!”) Yoon yelled after her, but Yoonjin couldn’t even answer him as she ran out the door. She knew she could deal with him later.

‘숨이 차 죽겠다…’ (Translation: ‘I’m so out of breath…’) Yoonjin huffed as she walked down the hallways to Jooheon’s studio. She had sprinted from the cab to the building mindlessly, not even receiving change for her ride.

When she approached his studio, she noticed the door was open slightly. Trying to calm herself down, she breathed in deeply. She tucked her hair behind her ears and patted her hair down, making sure all the baby hairs were neatly back in place. As she exhaled softly, Yoonjin knocked twice before pushing the door open slowly. Anything she gathered to say to him disappeared and she walked in with a blank mind.

*Creeeeak*

She held her breath as Jooheon turned around.

A look of confusion passed his face but in that moment, seeing his tired and haggard face with a hint of fire in his eyes, Yoonjin dropped everything and ran up to him. Without another thought, she slid her arms around him and wrapped him in a tight hug. As she rested her forehead on Jooheon’s shoulder, she thought, ‘아… 눈을 보자마자… 내가 너무 심했나? 어쩌면… 말을 들었으면, 아니면 더 성숙했으면… 침착하고 이해해줬다면…’ (Translation: ‘Ah… As soon as I saw his eyes… was I too harsh? Maybe… if I heard him out, or if I was more mature… if only I had been calm and understanding…’) She realized she had been hugging tightly, but there was no response from Jooheon. He didn’t reciprocate her embrace nor did he say anything. Yoonjin tensed up in fear that she was too late and unconsciously squeezed tighter, if that was even possible.

“윤..진씨--” (Translation: “Yoon...jin--”) Jooheon squeaked, and only then did Yoonjin realize how tight she had been holding onto Jooheon. She looked up and couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. His face was beet red and his eyes were shifting from side to side, looking completely lost.

He pointed at her arms secured around him, to which she quickly let go and yelped, “앗 죄송합ㄴ--” (Translation: “Oops sorr--”)

She was interrupted, however, by Jooheon’s strong arms pulling her in and embracing her strongly this time. He hugged tight, but not enough to crush her. Yoonjin was instantly enveloped in warmth, like she was being protected and held together. Before she could lift her arms and reciprocate the same warmth to him, Jooheon said,

“보고싶었어...요. 좀 몸은 어때...요? 아니다, 내가 미안해...요.” (Translation: “I missed you… how your is body? Actually, no, I’m sorry…”) His words were slightly jumbled and Yoonjin was confused for a split second why he kept on trying to talk politely to her… when she remembered she had asked them to go back to when they were just junior and senior.

She wasn’t sure if it was admirable that he remembered or sad that he was trying to respect her cold demand or cute that the things he wanted to say came out jumbled. In a small voice, she replied hesitantly, “...나도… 미안...해. 나도 주헌오빠...님 보고싶었어…” (Translation: “...I’m… also sorry… I also… missed Jooheon-Oppa...nim…”) Yoonjin could feel her face flush more and more as she told him in the casual manner, and she wasn’t even sure if the heart thumping wildly was hers or Jooheon’s.

“...”

Silence. Yoonjin tensed up at the silence. Then, Jooheon asked quietly, “...진짜? 진짜야?” (Translation: “...really? Is this real?”)

When she nodded, Jooheon pulled away and carefully cupped her face with his hands. He searched her eyes for another confirmation. Yoonjin’s eyes softened and she brought up her hands to clasp over his. With a smile, she answered, “응. 진짜.” (Translation: “Yup. Really.”)

Instantly, Yoonjin was startled to see tears forming in Jooheon’s eyes. As he sniffled and the tears threatened to spill, she took one hand off of his to catch the tears before they fell. She joked, “누가 보면 내가 괴롭히는거라고 생각하겠다…” (Translation: “If someone sees, he or she might think I’m bullying you…”)

At that, Jooheon smiled through his tears, and they continued in their current position, just staring at each other lovingly.

Hours later, they were both sitting on the couch, facing each other. He apologized again and again, while Yoonjin forgave him every time and apologized herself for being too extreme -- to which, Jooheon shook his head and said it was understandable. With one pinkie locked with another, they talked about each other’s song. She hesitated talking about her song, since it wasn’t a happy song or a confession. She knew if he heard it, he must have been hurt by her words. However, Jooheon stroked the back of her hand with his thumb and softly asked to hear how she made the song.

It seemed as if hearing her talk about the process of composing, writing and producing her song was a way to atone for his past actions. He flinched when she explained why it was too difficult to perform the song, why she had to cut her promotions short. When Jooheon started to tear up again, Yoonjin quickly changed the topic and asked him, “근데 아까 왜 당황해보였어? 오빠님이 불러놓고.” (Translation: “But why did you look so confused earlier? When you were the one who asked me to come.”)

“어? 내가?” (Translation: “Huh? I did?”) Jooheon frowned, fanning his eyes in between. “내가 어떻게 불렀는데?” (Translation: “How did I call you?”)

Yoonjin squinted her eyes and showed him the message he sent. She watched as his eyes widened. He looked back at her and broke out into a strange smile. She tilted her head in confusion and Jooheon laughed, “멤버들이 보냈나보네… 핸드폰 뺏겼거든…” (Translation: “The members must’ve sent it… since I got my phone taken away…”)

*Bzzt*

As if they heard him, Yoonjin and Jooheon peered at the new message.

기현 (Kihyun): 둘이 만났어요??? 23:45 (Translation: Did you guys meet??? 11:45pm)

They laughed at the message. As Yoonjin typed back her response, Jooheon stopped her and asked, “우리 사진 보낼까?” (Translation: “Should we send a picture?”)

With his arm longer than hers, he took her phone and angled it far out as they posed cutely. He had one arm loosely on her shoulder while she nestled her head on his shoulder. As corny as it was, they both formed a heart with their hands and sent the photo off to Kihyun.

*Bzzt* *Bzzt*

*Bzzt*

They laughed at the messages. Then, Jooheon set down her phone and took her hand once more. She smiled when he softly kissed the back of her hand.

“사랑해.” (Translation: “I love you.”) Jooheon whispered, as leaned closer. As his lips neared, Yoonjin held her breath from nervousness.

A moment passed, and she could only feel his light breath. She opened her eyes and found herself staring into his eyes from a short distance. He had a questionable look in his eyes. She looked at him in confusion and only then did Jooheon mumble, “아니… 트라우마가 있는것 같아… 전에… 피했잖아…” (Translation: “It’s just… I think I have a trauma… You avoided me… before…”)

Chuckling at his explanation, Yoonjin took the chance to sit up straight to kiss his forehead, his eyelid, his cheek and his nose. She could see his face get redder and redder each step, and when she was centimeters away from his lips, he looked up at her with a nervous look in his eyes again.

With a soft smile, she whispered, “나도. 나도 사랑해.” (Translation: “Me too. I love you too.”) as she wrapped her arm around his neck. They looked into each other’s eyes once more before Jooheon pressed his lips on hers.

*** TBC ***

A/n: One more chapter left!! also do people not care what i should write after (lol) literally got no feedback on my feedback pls post (lmao ㅠㅠ) i am kind of leaning towards another long series but that long series is probably going to be as long as electric shock or even longer... so... it’s also kind of tiring to write long series (lol) so idk if i should write some short stories before diving into a long series??

#jooheon fluff #jooheon angst #monsta x fanfic #jooheon fanfic #jooheon fic #monsta x fic #monsta x angst #monsta x scenarios #monsta x jooheon #mx fanfic #mx scenarios #mx fic #mx angst #mx fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop fic #joohoney #lies fic

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loneberry · 5 years

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The Sound That Arrives As Light: Manifestations of the Harp

Silver lyre from Ur (Mesopotamia), Sumerian harp from the tomb of Queen Puabi, both from around 2600BC // seen yesterday at the British Museum

Here is a mix of music that prominently features the harp—that most ancient instrument which appeared around the world in variegated forms beginning (as far as we know) around 5,000 years ago, when both written language and civilization appeared on the scene. Did harps evolve from the hunter’s bow? Unlike bone flutes, harps are usually made of wood, so an earlier harp would have not appeared in the archeological record and would’ve been lost to oblivion.

Harp and poetry are primordial bedfellows (lyric->lyre). I hope to eventually reunite the two à la Sappho, who performed her poetry with a lyre, like so many of the ancients!

Mix Notes:

This mix features a variety of harp music: classical harp, Burmese harp (saung), west African harp (kora), Paraguayan harp, New Age harp, Celtic folk harp, indie harp, experimental harp, ambient harp, and jazz harp. The mix starts off slowly with Mary Lattimore, contemporary master of the loop method of composition. Next we have the most famous movement from Mahler’s Symphony No. 5, the Adagietto, for solo harp and strings—one of the most memorable appearances of the harp in classical music.

The upbeat portion of the mix begins with Ballaké Sissoko and Vincent Segal on kora and cello, followed by a short dance suite composed by harp maestro Carlos Salzedo, the father of the harp technique I’m currently studying. The energy of the mix peaks with “Pajaro Campana,” performed by José Véliz. This is the absolute best recording of this song I could find—the high pitched glissandi sound like aliens!! Yes it’s the actual timbre of the Paraguayan harp (played with the nails!), which was introduced by the Spanish colonialists but evolved its own indigenous tradition.

Next we have the Malian kora maestro Toumani Diabaté with the gorgeous and uplifting “Konkoba.” What I love about kora music is the way it’s both melodic and percussive—you can groove to it. The mix starts to slow down with the a track consisting of saung (Burmese harp) and mournful vocals. I don’t know anything about this multi-volume recording—the song had a whopping 0 views when I looked it up on YouTube.

We get another beautiful song of harp and voice with a track from Harold Budd’s The Pavilion of Dreams. The recently rediscovered Carol Kleyn brings the Celtic folk harp, followed by two indie harp tracks from Emilie Kahn and CocoRosie + Devendra Banhart. Georgia Kelly lulls us into oceanic consciousness with “Seapeace” (featuring harp and violin). We continue with more harp and strings (cello) with Fauré’s “Pavane,” a piece I hope to learn in a couple months.

Up next are two jazz harp masters, Dorothy Ashby and Alice Coltrane. Alice began learning the harp at the same age as me (30), soon after John Coltrane died. Taking up the instrument was a form of bereavement—John had ordered the harp before he died, but the assembly was only completed after he had passed away. The instrument sat unplayed by a window, and the wind blowing in through the window would produce a celestial sound when it passed through the strings of the harp, which inspired Alice to teach herself the instrument.

We begin our descent with a dark track from Aine O’dwyer and an oneiric composition by John Cage, followed by a live Björk track from her collaboration with harp experimentalist Zeena Parkins. Next we have another collaboration between experimentalist Anne LaBaron (on a “prepared” harp), Kiku Day (on shakuhachi), and Kanoko Nishi (on koto). We conclude the mix with Czech composer Smetana’s epic tone poem “Vltava” (Die Moldau)—not originally composed for harp, but a staple of the harp repertoire nonetheless.

A note on the difference between the Spotify and YouTube versions of the mix:

Glaringly absent from the Spotify version is Joanna Newsom because she’s not on Spotify (she called Spotify a “a villainous cabal of major labels”). Since the Carol Kleyn track isn’t on YouTube I added Newsom to the YouTube version of the mix. The tracks “Pavane” and “Underlight” are also missing from the YouTube version. The recording of “Pajaro Campana” on the YouTube version of the mix is not nearly as good as the one on the the Spotify version because my preferred recording is not on YouTube :( But on the plus side, you get more live video action on the YouTube version.

Enjoy!!!!

Tracklisting:

Mary Lattimore - The Quiet at Night

Gustav Mahler - Symphony No.5 In C Sharp Minor: 4. Adagietto

Ballaké Sissoko & Vincent Segal - Niandou

Carlos Salzedo - 8 Dances Suite: No. 6. Seguidilla

José Véliz - Pajaro Campana

Toumani Diabaté - Konkoba

Inle Myint Maung - Ma Hi Yin Baung (Pyo) [feat. Yi Yi Thant]

Harold Budd - Let Us Go Into The House Of The Lord/Butterfly Sunday

Carol Kleyn - Lorelei

Emilie Kahn - White Lies (Solo)

CocoRosie - Brazilian Sun

Georgia Kelly - Seapeace

Fauré - Pavane, Op. 50

Dorothy Ashby - Moonlight in Vermont

Alice Coltrane - Wisdom Eye

Aine O'dwyer - Underlight

John Cage - In a Landscape

Björk - Generous Palmstroke

Kiku Day, Anne LaBaron, Kanoko Nishi - Song of Marble

Bedřich Smetana - Má vlast: No. 2, Vltava (Die Moldau)

Listen to the Spotify version here.

Listen to the YouTube version here.

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softforimjaebum · 7 years

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thirteen beaches | oneshot.

Im Jaebum x OFC

Word Count: 1k

Genre: Angst

Trigger Warning: Death/Suicidal thoughts

Summary: It took thirteen beaches to find one empty enough to let him go.

Music Recommendation (and also the song this oneshot is named after)

She was on that all-familiar beach, the one that used to be their favourite, sitting with her notebook in hand, scribbling away furiously. She felt disconnected to the world, like she didn’t belong in it any longer.

Jaebum’s presence was always lingering, and yet so far away. She looked up at the setting sun, remembering how it used to be their favourite thing to watch the sun set and write. They wouldn’t always share what they wrote, but they could see it in each other’s face; that look. The one that told the other that even if they didn't end up writing anything worthwhile, it wouldn’t matter. Because they were together, and while good writing comes and goes, they knew time didn’t.

She tried to remember how he had asked her out the first time, but for the life in her, that memory escaped her every time. It all seemed so far away, so distant in her memory. She could barely feel the happiness from their time spent together. And the more that happiness faded from her memory, the more the darkness took over.

She let his memories surface, it was about time to let them out. Running away from those memories only got her so far, she was back here anyway.

It took her two years to stop running. And yet, it was still as haunting as the first night without him. The first night when she slept in his clothes that smelt just like him, and that first morning when she woke up in his clothes, almost as if nothing had ever happen; as if she would walk outside the bedroom and find him cooking in their kitchen.

It still felt unreal; a part of her believed it would never feel real to her. It would always feel unreal to her that Jaebum was gone.

She still wore his clothes that were too big for her, she still wore the ring he gave her on their second anniversary and the ring he gave her when he asked her to marry him. She still drove his car, the one that he had picked her up on multiple occasions for date nights, for trips to the beach, to just run away from life for a little while. They were such beautiful memories; and yet she couldn’t relive a single one. Not without reliving the last memory of him.

She could never forget that memory, not in empty glasses of vodka and not in the empty bottles of sleeping pills. She couldn’t begin to forget his lifeless body in the casket nor could she begin to forget when she had seen his body covered in blood after the accident.

In one night, she had lost her fiancé, her best friend and her will to live. And the man who had hit their car was still free, out there somewhere, living his life. She hoped that he was haunted by his actions, his recklessness, that he was miserable; but somewhere in her mind she knew her hopes were a little too naive for this cruel world.

The day of the funeral, all his friends had shown up. Everyone had hugged her, told her to be strong. They told her he wouldn’t want her to be sad, that he would want her to stay strong. She remembered thinking fuck them. Because she knew what he would’ve wanted. But he was gone, and she was still breathing; still breathing with the knowledge that he wasn't anymore.

And yet, even in the darkest moments, she knew he wouldn’t want her to do what she’d been thinking of every morning that she had woken up without him. And she couldn’t do it, she just couldn’t fucking swallow a bottle of pills and let herself drown, free herself from this pain.

So she ran away as far as she could, to distant cities and beaches that didn't remind her of him. But everywhere she went, every city and every beach, she only found shadows and ghosts of Jaebum in everyone she met.

It took thirteen beaches to find one empty.

Empty enough to let him go.

And it was the one that was theirs. She was back in the city and on the beach she never thought she could be back to. All because she couldn’t run anymore, she was tired of convincing herself that she could no longer love him. She was tired of the pain, the denial, the running. She still loved Jaebum, and it hurt to love him, but she couldn’t run away from the fact that she did any longer.

Every day she spent denying her love for Jaebum was another day she spent trapped inside her mind, suffocating her herself. She was dying inside.

She couldn’t run away from the fact that he was gone forever either; that no matter how much she loved him she couldn’t have the life she imagined having with him. It was time to mourn. It was time to mourn the wedding that was almost planned, the pets that were almost adopted, the house that was almost bought together. It was time to mourn the almosts.

But he had died loving her, wearing that ring that she had given him for his birthday and that obnoxiously bright hoodie she had bought him. There was some twisted comfort in that. He had been on his way back from the studio, having recorded a song that he had written for her. The song that was still on her phone, unplayed and unheard by anyone else, not even her.

She unlocked her phone, finding the song.

Untitled-Def.

Pressing play, she let her phone sit besides her, his voice filling her ears. For the first time in two years, she heard the voice of the man she loved. His voice still gave her goosebumps, she still knew his voice like the back of her hand. The melody was the softest amongst everything she’d ever heard him compose, and Jaebum was singing about finding a love he didn’t think he deserved. He was singing about her, about them.

And she cried; she cried like she hadn’t cried ever before, not when it happened and not in the two years since. And she wrote; she wrote like a sailor drowning at sea and like these words were the only thing could help her stay afloat.

He was lost to her, and he was lost to their tangible world; but just maybe somewhere in these words she could find him again.

#jaebum angst #got7 angst #ahgasenet #7ornevernet #jaebum imagines #got7 imagines #jaebum scenarios #got7 scenarios #jaebum #got7 #im jaebum #got7 oneshot #jaebum oneshot #got7 fanfic #jaebum fanfic

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nofomoartworld · 7 years

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Hyperallergic: A Video Game Immerses You in an Opera Composed by Dogs

Still from David Kanaga’s Oiκοςpiel (2017) (all screenshots by the author for Hyperallergic)

Oiκοςpiel (or alternatively Oik Ospielen, OIK OS, and sometimes just The Dog Opera) is the newest project from David Kanaga, a composer and game developer based in Oakland, California. Kanaga is perhaps best known for his sound work on the video games Proteus (2013) and Panoramical (2015). He also runs a game and music theory blog called Wombflash Forest.

The general premise of Oiκοςpiel is that an immortal Donkey Koch (of the Koch brothers) has commissioned a group of dogs to produce a digital opera for THE GEOSPIEL, a global arts festival scheduled for 2100. A union of other animal employees is attempting to establish universal basic income, but the dog developers won’t join, and eventually serve as strikebreakers. The game more or less follows the opera’s development in a series of acts over several dog generations, with settings that range from a yoga studio in LA (for dogs) to a gated community called Emeryville North, located at the North Pole, where one of the dog protagonists pursues an artist residency.

Still from David Kanaga’s Oiκοςpiel (2017)

Oiκοςpiel is the first game Kanaga has produced independently, as well as his first major project with a focus on code, visual artwork, in-game text, and interactivity. (It would be hard to imagine a more demanding first subject than a full-length opera, but here it is.) This note about firsts is important, as Kanaga’s newness to development tools seems to directly influence the content of the game. Oiκοςpiel is an asset store, exploded. Rather than build each element by hand, Kanaga has almost entirely used prefabricated components, including camera movement, animal models, crystal-shaders, and transition effects, each purchased for a small sum and sewn together with a deft hand. In interviews, Kanaga has said that these scripts and models are what made it possible for him to put Oikospiel together on his own, but the asset store aesthetic is also immediately, unassailably political.

Still from David Kanaga’s Oiκοςpiel (2017)

These purchased objects, models, and scripted behaviors are bought for pennies on the dollar, and each has bundled into it a history of labor. Kanaga draws on such a past, listing each asset’s creators in the opening credits of the game. NOT_Lonely (acoustic guitar) and Sunny Sunshine (flags) are listed as players, among others, as well as Donkey Koch and Kanaga himself. The credits state: “In addition to all of these players, there are many more whom have been forgotten, and are being researched, noted, and collated, and many more still. This is the work force of the Oikospielen Opera.”

Still from David Kanaga’s Oiκοςpiel (2017)

Kanaga not only re-appropriates paid components from the asset store, but also adopts from popular culture at large, borrowing characters, logos, songs, and names from the corporate world. The Koch brothers become flattened into a Disney-font rendition of the Donkey Kong logo. Protagonists of Zelda mingle with centaurs and bears. A time-stretched midi version of Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” opens the game. Nothing is made, but everything is reconstructed. This is a world where there is no more elemental matter, where creation can no longer start from clay or the atom, but has to begin with model purchases and cultural icons. For Kanaga, the smallest divisible object here is a sunset effect, or a 3D-modeled rock labeled for creative reuse.

It is no accident that the protagonists of the game are a pack of dogs. They are the first domesticates and an easy stand-in for humans. Despite their involvement in artistic labor, they are tamed and loyal animals. At one point they are described as ‘copyrighted’; they are cast as union busters.

Still from David Kanaga’s Oiκοςpiel (2017)

Perhaps the most remarkable part of Oiκοςpiel is that it is, in fact, an opera. The game follows a strict series of acts, presented linearly, with a table of contents. The scale of the work is certainly monumental, in a Wagnerian sort of way — I spent some 20-plus hours playing and exploring, and I’m unconvinced that I saw everything. And, unlike much of the game, the sound of Oiκοςpiel is mostly original. Such a choice reminds us that Kanaga is a musician at heart, and despite his remarkable skills in visual and textual assemblage, this opera is a fundamentally musical work.

At the very beginning of the game is a conversational introduction by the dogs, which describe the task ahead. We receive a few references to Kanaga’s influences (Tristram Shandy comes up), as well as hints to the dense ecosystem of puns that form a backbone of the work (“oikos” is the root of eco, as in “ecology” and “economy”; “opera” means “works,” as in labor; OIK OS is an ‘opera’ting system; and “spiel” means “play”). The dogs preface that they, short-lived, will not see the conclusion of their masterwork. Instead, they must encode the future of the work in instructions to their offspring. These instructions are to take the form of eternal objects, artworks unassailable by time.

Still from David Kanaga’s Oiκοςpiel (2017)

Playing Oiκοςpiel, I can’t help but wonder: Have they succeeded? Have the dogs managed to make an eternal work out of stolen logos and characters and scenarios? Is there, somewhere in the combination of midi samples and camera packs and modeled animals and song, a transcendent thing?

The dogs don’t say. But speaking for myself, Oiκοςpiel is impossible to unplay; it re-contextualizes everything it touches. Tristram Shandy becomes an aesthetic object at the same scale as Kanaga’s purchased assets. Zelda and Celine Dion and the Koch brothers are all mixed up in labor and ecology. And the dogs do all the things that dogs always do — run, love, labor, work, and play — but they also do something more, something complicated and believably human, which is that they make art.

David Kanaga’s Oiκοςpiel is available for purchase on a PC and Mac here.

The post A Video Game Immerses You in an Opera Composed by Dogs appeared first on Hyperallergic.

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