Interview with Scott McKinney
Interview with Scott McKinney
July 2020 Digital Resident
MHM: What are 5-10 words that describe your work?
SM: Speculative, Narrative, Colorful, Digital, Graphic
MHM: Do you find that a tactile component of your digital practice is necessary for precipitating ideas? In what ways has your relationship with media and materials been challenged throughout your practice?
SM: I always keep a sketchbook and a notebook to the left of my computer setup as they are still the fastest ways to develop an idea. If I can, things always start on paper and end up in physical space but COVID has made the last part a lot trickier. About 10 years ago I had purchased a MacBook and convinced myself that my whole creative practice would live in my backpack, but I still find myself reaching for paper all the time.
MHM: Much of your recent featured work is applied in game and webzine design— in what ways have you navigated these platforms to augment or traverse the dialogue of social issues and human behavior?
SM: I think for me the most fascinating part of game art and web art, is the sense of agency they provide to the viewer. There is a constant perceptible dialog that happens between the viewer and the work, the viewer has to take an active stance to view the work. I like that the very nature of interactive media encourages viewers to test the work, and really live in it even if it’s only for a few minutes.
MHM: You most recently finished a game called Changing Wilds; can you tell us more about this game and its concepts?
SM: Yeah so Changing Wilds is a downloadable PC game that places the player in a post-climate apocalypse world. As they progress through the game, they come across mutant animal guides that show them safe passage through this surreal world. I won’t spoil too much about the story for those that wish to play it but each level is accompanied by spoken word poetry that tells the story of mother earth transforming into a giant monster bent on ending humanity in vengeance for their carelessness.
MHM: What challenges do your viewers face while experiencing/playing your games?
SM: I feel like my games always kind of bend the idea of a challenge. Most mainstream games present very objective goals tasking the player to perform a series of tasks. Where I always try to present spaces that feel a lot less objective, areas that are explored instead of challenges that are presented. I’d like to think that the real challenges the player faces when playing my games are coming to terms with the way these fictional stories draw parallels to real-world issues.
MHM: Why did you choose the interactive game format to help promote change in our world?
SM: Games are just so immersive for the viewer, which makes them a really powerful tool for crafting change. I don’t think that Changing Wilds is going to instantly convert people into environmentalists, but it does allow them to process the environment in a radically different way. I think anyone who has spent time playing a game has found themselves daydreaming about playing in different ways.
MHM: In Changing Wilds, your visuals and narration paint scenes of “mutated, parasitic systems,” and an Earth that, when hurt, truly hurts you back. We (your invented creatures) seem slightly mutated ourselves, and walk paths through these vignettes inescapably. What are your thoughts on the lines between mutation and monstrosity?
SM: I think the line between the two are the conditions in which things change. The creatures in Changing Wilds have changed in order to better survive a world that is no longer hospitable. Whereas monstrosity is the kind of reckless change in response to a situation that is not long term sustainable. I think it is the difference between changing slowly to adapt or changing rapidly as a reaction.
MHM: The colors in this world — acid green, ominous orange, psychic blues and purples — seem to recall anything from nefarious action figures to dreamscapes. Can you dive into the aesthetics of these worlds and creatures?
SM: The aesthetics of Changing Wilds constantly draw reference to comics, action figures, and older video games. A huge part of that is an affinity I have always had for pop media (bright colors always look good on screen). I like the fact that merely based on color, things can trigger intense and vivid associations, which I feel is a quality a lot of ecologically focused media lacks because it ends up locked in a lot of dull browns and greens.
MHM: Does your False Monuments series aim activate conversation with the ongoing fight to dismantle white supremacist monuments? Can you tell us more about this work and where you see it going?
SM: Yes, False Monuments is all about the destruction of historically toxic monuments, and speculation on what could replace them. It’s astounding just how young most confederate monuments are, and how they seem to be really strategically placed. I think there is a certain sense of catharsis in destroying objects that hold such negative energy (even if it’s happening in a virtual fictional space). The goal for the future is to create site-specific false monuments, where I 3d scan and virtually destroy sculptures and present altered versions as AR works.
MHM: In focusing so intently on building post-apocalyptic landscapes and studying media’s alteration of our minds, how do you maintain a sense of optimism in technology’s ability to manifest “better solutions for living in the future”?
SM: In relation to the last question, deconstructing something presents a blank space in which we can construct something new. My simulations of a technicolor apocalyptic landscape remind me that I have a small responsibility in maintaining the environment. I think dismantling things in digital space kind of automatically makes the viewer think about the real-world equivalent and ways that we can restructure our surroundings in better ways. I really like the idea of a virtual blank slate.
MHM: Why are digital aesthetics potent for moving people to change their actions?
SM: I think a huge part of digital aesthetics and their potency is the level of accessibility; we are all very literate of digital media thanks to the internet. And while creating digital media can be challenging, viewing and sharing it is incredibly easy. In particular interactive works are very good at holding our attention for extended periods of time. If someone plays my game for 15 - 20 minutes, they’ve been immersed in a dialog about environmentalism for almost that entire time.
MHM: If your time and resources were unlimited, what would you make?
SM: If I had unlimited resources, I would love to be doing more site-specific works. I’d love to make a sequel/prequel to Changing Wilds that is set in actual areas affected by climate change. I’d also love to get into 3d scanning and drone photography. There is something that fascinates me about taking things from the actual world and deconstructing them in virtual space, which is basically the dream version of False Monuments.
MHM: There are so many types of landscape and terrain in Colorado. Do you gravitate more toward the desert? How does landscape inform your process and aesthetics?
SM: I think the interesting thing about deserts is that they exist in this interesting headspace where we picture this lifeless space, but in reality, they are full of color. Especially in southern Colorado, it’s covered in sage and bright green and pink cacti, and the fact that it is lower elevation makes the mountains seem even bigger. I love how it breaks my expectations every time.
MHM: What are you currently watching, reading, or listening to?
SM: I’ve been loving Midnight Gospel on Netflix, the way it pairs surreal animation to very real and intense conversations (pulled from Duncan Trussell’s podcast) is so inspiring. I’ve been reading an interesting pair of books in Reza Negarestani’s Cyclonopedia and Dean Koontz’s Phantoms. Cyclonopedia is a kind of historical horror book about different perceptions of petroleum oil and Phantoms involves a kind of oil like substance that silently hunts out people in a small mountain town, between the two you end up with this weird story about ancient haunted petroleum. I might draw too many connections between the two, but they intersect in interesting ways. I’ve been listening to a lot of metal lately, I’d like to highlight Panopticon, specifically the album Kentucky, it blends back and forth between these black metal songs about destroyed land and bluegrass ballads about impoverished coal miners, and the two blend so well.
MHM: Do you have a favorite game?
SM: It’s hard to pick because games can vary so much in their focus. The game I have spent the most time in though is definitely Skyrim, not because the storyline or gameplay were all that interesting, but the environment was just so fun to explore. Instead of playing a warrior hunting dragons, I ended up sort of backpacking from fantasy town to fantasy town, taking odd jobs on the path to find the corners of the map.
MHM: What artists are you inspired by?
SM: It’s probably easiest for me to list people so: Theo Triantafyllidis, David Altmejd, Pascal Blanche, Kristen Liu-Wong, Jeron Braxton, David OReilly, James Jean, Daniel Arsham, Faile, Swoon, Beeple, Jonathan Monaghan, John Butler. In no particular order.
