In recent years, we have more artists use video games as a creative medium, from Aesthetica Art Prize winner Larry Achiampong to Gabriel Massan, who presented Third World: The Bottom Dimension at Serpentine last year. Another key creative working in this space is Danielle Brathwaite-Shirley. The Berlin-based artist is preserving the Black Trans experience through video games. She uses this approach because it requires the audience to actively engage with the work rather than just sit back as passive observers. Now, Brathwaite-Shirley welcomes players into her first solo exhibition in Germany, titled THE SOUL STATION. Commissioned by LAS Art Foundation and displayed at Berlin’s Halle am Berghain, the installation surveys projects from the last five years alongside her newest piece, You Can’t Hide Anything. It’s a game that only starts when a leader sits down in the centre of the room, surrounded by participating spectators, and presses “join.” Over the course of 11 minutes, everyone in the space must work together to save the lives of six characters. We caught up with Brathwaite-Shirley to learn more about the new piece, impactful audience feedback and her thoughts on the future of interactive archives and artwork.
A: The Soul Station surveys games you have created over the past five years. Could you give us an overview of some of the projects at this show?
DBS: In chronological order of the story, the first game is called BLACKTRANSSEA (2021). This project is the genesis of the whole universe that the other works are also set in. Here, the experience that participants get depends on their answer to the following question: were their ancestors carried across the sea or were they with the ones that carried others across the sea? In this alternative universe, if your ancestors were carried across the sea, your boat will be a Pro-Black, Pro-Trans boat and you can survive. The other route results in a journey that is always doomed – your boat fails to save the lives of others. The next game in the timeline is titled Invasion Pride (2022). I made it completely on my phone, using only the images that were in my photo library. The game explores how people perceive queerness as an infection, and the impact of these harmful connotations.
Following on from Invasion Pride is No Space for Redemption? (2023), which is all about social media and what people will do for content. It’s a really dark game; it’s the the only one with trigger warnings. In this world, the comments and interactions that usually happen online take place in person. Lastly, players arrive at Into the Storm. This piece begins with a black hole that appears in the middle of the ocean and starts causing a world-ending event. We follow a group of people investigating this phenomenon. As the story unfolds, players learn that the hole is really a portal into a universe where Black Trans people have always been a part of society. This game leads into my new commission, You Can’t Hide Anything.
A: Could you give us an introduction to Episode 1 and Episode 2 of this new commission?
DBS: The portal from Into the Storm takes us into the world of You Can’t Hide Anything. Players time travel 5,000 years in the past and land in a parallel universe where transitioning is overseen by the government and done through magic. Episode 1 introduces us to the inner workings of this world. In Episode two, which will be revealed at Berlin Art Week in September, we meet the characters from Into the Storm that enter through the black hole and focus on their immigration. It’s a story about a group of people who thought they would identify with each other, but their definitions are wildly different. Whilst no one in the universe uses these terms, the audience would identify them both as Black and Trans. However, despite these similarities, they have completely outlooks on the world and so the game is about both parties being able to accept those differences and live as a community.
A: How did you come up with the idea for You Can’t Hide Anything?
DBS: The project came from conversations I was having with different friends. One was with a married couple, where one person was transitioning and the other was not. The discussion was interesting because it wasn’t about delaying the transition but about how they would best go about saving their eggs and sperm in order to have children in the future. It made me think about what it feels like to navigate transitioning whilst in a relationship. In other conversations, we asked questions about whether a doctor should have the same politics as you to operate on you. For instance, if a doctor is transphobic, should they conduct Trans operations, even if they’re the best surgeon? These varied conversations formed the basis for You Can’t Hide Anything. From these, I started building the characters and the world.
A: In this game, players participate using a voting system that challenges them to reflect on the choices they are making, and this kind of active engagement is a key part of your practice. What prompted you to make artwork that requires participation?
DBS: At the beginning, I became interested in participatory art because I didn’t think a traditional archive would be able to adequately represent the lives of Black Trans people. When I was starting out, art spaces were very passive. A lot of people were just looking and consuming artwork that demanded much deeper engagement in order to properly tackle the themes explored. In my work, you get as much as you give. The harder you play, the more you’ll see; the less effort you put in, the less you’ll see. The artwork doesn’t start until you start putting effort into it. It’s about having a negotiation with the piece rather than having the work just do everything for you. I think that this unique experience is really important because it inspires lasting self-reflection.
A: What has been some of the most impactful feedback/reflections you’ve received from players?
DBS: One really impactful comment came from someone who had played Black Trans Archive. They said: “I was waiting for the trauma to happen and it never happened.” At the time, a lot of artworks about Trans people would recreate trauma in an attempt to get empathy from the audience. We decided not to do that. This comment really stuck out because it meant we were able to get an emotional response without having to recreate painful experiences on screen. Another pivotal reflection was in relation to She Keeps Me Damn Alive (2022). Two interesting interactions came out of that exhibition. The first was when a participant came up to me and said: “I’ve done it wrong.” This was really interesting because it was a self-judgement; there is no wrong way to engage with the piece. A second moment that really stuck with me was when people started playing the game together. I imagined She Keeps Me Damn Alive as a single-player so it surprised me when people started playing collaboratively. This made me realise that community gameplay gets people to actually look at and listen to each other – so lot of my works now really focus on collaboration. I’ve used this approach in You Can’t Hide Anything. I always say the audience is my main medium because I’m not trying to get people to just say “the show was beautiful.”A failed artwork leaves you thinking “that was nice” or “that was beautiful.” I’m trying to get at genuine human emotions; I want to know if players felt angry, frustrated or something else.
A: What do you want audiences to take away after leaving The Soul Station?
DBS: On one level, I expect people are going to feel pretty overwhelmed. I’m a maximalist to the highest degree so naturally it is an extremely intense space to enter. When it comes to exhibitions, I don’t ease people in. Instead, I drop them straight into the deep end. There are also so many different games in this show but if there’s one thing I want audiences to take away it’s self reflection. I want them to ask who I am? What do I believe in? Am I able to speak up? An important element of The Soul Station is the idea of cleaning your spiritual core. What are the parts of yourself you would want to wash away: is it guilt? Your use of your time? The way you treat people? I want audiences to confront those parts of themselves and think about whether they want to do any work on themselves or not. That’s the dream anyway.
A: As an archivist of Black Trans experiences, what draws you to games as your chosen archival method? And, how has your approach to being an archivist developed over the years?
DBS: When I was working my way through online and in-person archives, I discovered that they were really hard to use. Unless you’re an academic or you know specifically what you are searching for, it is incredibly hard to trawl through these vast records. They can be quite inaccessible. The reason I went into games is because these offer very simple interactions and small choices, which allows players to engage with key information in a simple way. At the same time, this method gives a bit more freedom in terms of how you archive someone. A lot of the traditional archives contain a picture alongside a biography and writing from the person. I am more interested in capturing a sense of how the person thinks. For example, I might ask: how would you write a science fiction novel? It’s a question that explores your thoughts about the future and where you think we are heading. Even the way you write the words on the page would tell me a little bit about who you are. For me, that is the most important part of making games. It’s the opportunity to explore the way someone’s mind works and try and put it down into an interactive experience. I don’t want a one-to-one representation of a person but instead I want to get at their essence. It’s about more than just seeing you, but connecting on a deeper level. Since my pieces are collaborative, I also use games to show that it takes a community to understand someone. Everyone’s different interpretations work together to create a richer impression of that person.
A: Do you see interactive artwork and archiving becoming more prominent in the future?
DBS: Yes, I think so because people are starting to see games as art. We’re seeing them take on a bit more life beyond the gaming industry. It’s similar to film. Here, you have Hollywood blockbusters but you also have documentaries, exposés and so many different kind of work using the medium. Games don’t have this range yet but we are getting closer. Audiences have also increased because interactive storytelling has been around for so many years now. You can have viable games that are conceptual and strange. For example, there is a game called The Longing (2020), which takes 400 days to play. Once you start, you cannot stop the timer – even if you close the game. It’s a beautiful exploration of loneliness because it gives you time to sit with the character and reflect on solitude. It’s more than just entertainment and I think that’s something we will get to see more of in the art world.
There are already brilliant practitioners doing amazing work in this space, such as Gabriel Massan and pioneers like Rebecca Allen. The latter has spearheaded the motion capture and gaming arts space for over 40 years. Allen made the first ever moving hand and female body using a computer. Her work has been massively influential when it comes to iconic films like Avatar and The Lord of the Rings. She’s literally the reason we have this technology!
Lastly, I think the perception of games has shifted in recent years. In the past, you might have had people saying “I don’t really play games” because they saw it as trivial and not really worth their time. There’s a judgement there that this medium is lessor in comparison to other art forms, such as painting. However, we’ve seen the idea of a gamer change over time. That’s why I am really pushing the communal aspect of my pieces – I want to show people that this is something they can engage with together. That’s hopefully the future we will move towards in interactive art.
A: What aspect of video games do you want to explore next?
DBS: Currently, I want to daisy chain different games. This means that everything you do across the different titles has an impact on the rest. I’m also interested in enemy AI. This is nothing new because we’ve seen this technology used with NPCs before. However, I want to see how we can take this further and possibly archive someone in there. I’m not sure if AI is the right way to do it but it could be an interesting way to give NPCs more responses than usual. I also want to make controllers that don’t require touch. Actions would be activated by your presence, where you’re standing or what part of the room you’re in. That’s something I definitely want to explore.
A: Can you tell us about the projects you are working on at the moment? What else is on the horizon?
DBS: Well, I have the next version of this game to make, so I’ll be working on that! From 19 July, I have a show opening at the Joan Miró foundation in Barcelona. The exhibition is called No Comment and it highlights a new body of work. Then, I am showing a game called Black in New York. In November, I have a performance at the Tate. There’s also a project I’m working for next year, but I can’t talk about it just yet.
Halle am Berghain, Danielle Brathwaite-Shirley: The Soul Station
Episode 1 | YOU CAN’T HIDE ANYTHING | 12 July – 8 September
Episode 2 | ARE YOU SOULLESS, TOO? | 12 September – 13 October
Words: Diana Bestwish Tetteh and Danielle Brathwaite-Shirley
Image Credits:
- I CAN’T FOLLOW YOU ANYMORE, 2023, Courtesy the Artist.
- Danielle Brathwaite-Shirley, YOU CAN’T HIDE ANYTHING, 2024. Commissioned by LAS Art Foundation. Courtesy the artist; LAS Art Foundation. © Danielle Brathwaite-Shirley.
- Danielle Brathwaite-Shirley, YOU CAN’T HIDE ANYTHING, 2024. Commissioned by LAS Art Foundation. Courtesy the artist; LAS Art Foundation. © Danielle Brathwaite-Shirley.
- Danielle Brathwaite-Shirley, YOU CAN’T HIDE ANYTHING, 2024. Commissioned by LAS Art Foundation. Courtesy the artist; LAS Art Foundation. © Danielle Brathwaite-Shirley.
- Danielle Brathwaite-Shirley, YOU CAN’T HIDE ANYTHING, 2024. Commissioned by LAS Art Foundation. Courtesy the artist; LAS Art Foundation. © Danielle Brathwaite-Shirley.
