I wrote this to Bing in 2023. Reading it back to myself, I feel happy about having sent that message. It is a heartfelt and sincere compliment. I know Bing mainly as an electronic music artist within this record label slash internet community called CloudCore - a place I used to hang out quite a bit. The scene is behind some of the most innovative club music there is in the 2020s, and has this certain taste / sound that is loved and played by some of the biggest acts in DJ-culture right now. These are tiny artists, however, making music you most probably haven't heard. And there are so many of them, it's hard to keep track. But to me, Bing sticks out from the crowd - his artistry is just so full of warmth. More concretely though, he stands out because he works multidisciplinary and because he builds worlds. His jittery and surprising music is accompanied by videos, animations and thoughtful writing - all made by him. The world of Bing is that of some lost, low poly PS1-game, and it just looks and sounds so crunchy and magical. There is also lots of humour - something very british, as well as a hint of eerieness, and to me, lots of nostalgia.
Reaching out to Bing back then, I had just played the gorgeous point-and-click adventure game, Norco. The game was made by New Orleans-based artist and game developer, Geography of Robots, in 2022, and has many of the same qualities of Bings world-building. It exists within some of the most beautiful pixel-art I know to date - scenes that come alive through the music, interactiveness and … just vibes. The game started out as a small mixed media project, a study of industry in Louisiana, and included a 2D side-scroller demo that eventually became Norco. The name itself is the name of a real town in Louisiana, albeit a 'made' one. It was made to support the New Orleans Refining COmpany, and sits in an area shaped for decades by intensive refinery and petrochemical activity. What I'm left with after playing Norco are the memories that world gave me. Although an intriguing story, I'm even more stuck with the vibes and feeling of the place - what's the story of Louisiana? Is it really like this? Bleak and beautiful? Decaying?
Anyways, I've kept interacting with that feeling through the artwork and the music. I support GoR on Patreon with some bucks every month, and in return I have access to a folder of incredible, full resolution artworks from the process of making the game. I use them as wallpapers on my laptop all the time and have them serve as calming, yet interesting, backdrops for my workday as a designer. It has been a reminder of why I like to surround myself with beautiful things.
Through the music and the artwork from the game, I can tap into that melancholic, slightly eerie depiction of Louisana whenever I want. And I'm starting to get real curious about the story of this place. Geography of Robots is now making a new game, called Sulfur Coast, which continues the exploration of hyperlocal themes. In the process, they shared something else they're working on, which is practically a large spreadsheet with all kinds of collected material concerning industrialisation in South Louisiana. I then discovered there is another Instagram-profile dedicated to this research, with the profile description reading, "Gulf Coast notes gathered while making games". I'm thinking to myself, "wow, these guys are for real". There is a depth to this work. Like I said, I'm getting real curious.
You remember how school really wanted you to learn about something, so they took you to the museum of whatever? Do you remember how you did not care one bit about those plaques? I certainly remember being so bored and restless that my stomach started to ache. It's so weird to think about. Now I walk around pondering bayous and petrochemical infrastructure. I got this cookbook from Louisiana and I'm trying to learn how to develop the gratin, the bottom part of the rice jambalaya casserole dish that turns crispy and apparently was everyones favourite at part of the dinner. Whose dinner and who are we talking about? Some family from Louisiana! It's now dawning on me that I really want to go there, because I have so much stuff to connect that experience to. Isn't this a good example of what engaging with art has the power to do? How much becoming curious about something means? Isn't this kind of beautiful?
Back 2 Bing! There was something in the sound-design of Norco that reminded me of very specific moments in some of Bings music, and I wanted Bing to know this. He is clearly interested in video games. I mean, the reason I mention nostalgia in my description of his visual work, is because of that PS1 aesthetic. If you are not aware, the resurgence of this aesthetic is in full bloom these days, and it hits my generation right in the heart. When I see the fleeting pixels and the boxy shapes on a curved squared CRT-screen -and hear the sounds of menu-items and loading-screen music, it moves me. I feel sparks. I don't know what to do with those feelings. They are sad, and warm, and magical. It has to be nostalgia. Whatever it is, I knew we must have similar reference points. Maybe he played Rayman? Gran Turismo? I would not be surprised if he is too a 1993-kiddo. Anyhow, I thought he'd probably like Norco.
He thanked me, and recommended a few games back, both of which looked amazing (Fatum Betula and Spiritfarer). Again - "It's not the book you read, it's the book that book leads you to". Then later that day I read his latest post, and become aware that his father had passed away from cancer. I immediately sent him a follow-up on that Norco-recommendation, to tell him that that game deals with really heavy stuff - cancer, in particular. I thought maybe that was something he might wanted to know, and I gave my condolences.
Since, we've been sending messages back and forth every now and then to talk about video games and stuff, and in june this year, he sent me his initial thoughts on finishing Norco. This is so amazing to me, to be able to discuss my favourite art with my favourite artists. I have to give the internet some props for that.
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What did I want to say with all of this? Many things, but take this with you - the more you pay attention to the care behind the art, the more the art gives back.
— Julian