Double Bills #1: Spots and Dots

Damien Hirst’s spot paintings are a series of works made up of coloured dots randomly placed in rows and columns at equal distances. The works have been criticised as too heavily taking influence from American artist Thomas Downing’s work with spots from the 1960s; but, whether or not this is the case, Hirst’s are clearly the most successful in terms of proliferation – having become culturally prolific enough to inspire t-shirts, bags, cups, etc. Hirst has said in an interview that the spot paintings were, for him, a non-expressionist way for him to express his joy of colour. I personally find they make me think, as often their titles account for - being named after chemical compounds ( e.g. Methoxyverapamil, 1991) -  the mechanised production and sale of medicine. Not only do their stark colours recall the cleanliness of pharmaceutical package design but, perhaps more cynically, I find that, along with their almost engineered proliferation, they recall the capitalistic connotations which the pharmaceutical companies have garnered over the 20^th century.

I’m not suggesting that Hirst’s art is on the same level of cynicism as the work of pharmaceuticals companies; which have gained an infamous reputation for making profitable business out of the direst of human situations. But there is something aesthetically in the spots which recalls the coldness of the pharmaceutical drugs business. This may well sound like a ludicrously pretentious stab at an artists who is already something of an easy target for many. But, I do not wish it to be read as such (though it’s hard to shake that feeling of ludicrous pretention) and I genuinely believe there are two useful connections we can make between Hirsts spots and the production of drugs in this case – firstly they are produced en mass to sell (relatively speaking in regards to Hirst’s: around 1,500 pieces) and they evoke both repetitiveness and effectiveness in their simple shape and colour.

Which is to say: the simplicity of design on drugs packaging arguably evokes the given drug’s reliability as a clinical product (imagine your response if medical drugs had logos similar to Tango, for example). Hirst’s spots are harder to define in these terms, but I would argue that these minimal, repetitive lines of coloured spots are similarly identifiable as reliable products which one might wish to display. It’s hard to imagine these works offending anyone (other than the Daily Mail), and, as such, their pleasing (as opposed to frustrating) simplicity and repetition proposes artistic taste without the difficult conversation attached. They are simple and effective works of art.

Enter Dots, a puzzle videogame developed for use on mobile devices by Playdots Inc. in 2013. Dots is described by the company to be: “Inspired by minimalist art [...] created with the notion that beauty and fun are not mutually exclusive. Dots is a minimalist game that was designed to be a soothing experience.” Dots, I would expressly argue, is a digital videogame adaptation of Hirst’s spot paintings. And I mean Hirst’s work, not Downings’, nor “minimalist art” in general – it is a homage to Hirst.  

In several ways Dots not only recalls Hirst’s prolific, repetitive, joyful colour configurations but exceeds them. Dot’s essentially allows the consumer to work through numerous (possibly infinite) 6X6 arrangements of coloured dots displayed a random. The player is not only able to look at these random arrangements (as in the case of visual art) but is given the opportunity to organise them for points. The player has to match together two or more dots of the same colour; if the player can match the coloured dots into a connected shape (i.e. a square), then the game board is cleared of that entire colour. Dots is one of those rare games in which design and gameplay work perfectly together. It takes something pleasing, such as randomly arranged coloured spots, and finds something additionally pleasing to compliment it with – in this case, letting the player take control of the arrangement and sorting of something ‘random’. And then, of course, the enticement of highscores!

Once again we find here not only simplicity for design’s and art’s sake but also as a way of expressing the game as a simple and effective work for consumers. Stripped away are those usual clues that you are playing a highscore based videogame. There are no flashing visual, no bombastic language displayed on screen; nor are there any visible cartoon animals, monsters, coins, gems or end of level bosses. In an interview with The Wall Street Journals’ (strangely named) AllTHingsD publication, CEOs Patrick Moberg and Paul Murphy were asked why they’d decided to use dots rather than coins or other typical videogame ciphers. The reply given by Moberg was that, apart from fine art, he’d also looked to board games which “are fun and playful but had [...] such neutral personalities that anyone can approach them and play them.” Dots’ simplicity makes it approachable for those not usually interested in the more complex visuals (in terms of colour and possibly implication) of highscore videogames.  This makes the market for the game much wider, including those who would not normally associate themselves with videogames.

Hirst saw the artistic and the market potential in works of minimalism. Taking clear influence both from previous minimalist artists as well as product design from the mass market and melding it all into an eye catching, reassuringly effective, and highly profitable artistic venture. Moberg and Murphy took the market potential of Hirsts minimalist art-design (as Hirst did with 60s minimalism) and found it a perfect fit for mobile videogames. The principle of adding simple game mechanics to Hirsts pleasing visuals allowed them to make the product more enjoyable to consume and, radically, possibly more applicable to 21^st century culture. Dots to me is a perfect adaptation and further extrapolation of Hirst’s prolific take on minimalism.