Tag: Russia

  • Being a Monk – Building a Cathedral

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    Being a Monk – Building a Cathedral

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    Быть Монахом (Being а Monk) was a larp simulating the life of a Benedictine monastery in the Pyrenees during Holy Week of 1202. The organizers were inspired not only by history and art, but also by their personal experience. The Duende larp held in 2010 in the Urals, where this larp’s organizers were players and part of the monastery team, proved that life in a monastery could provide interesting play. Another source of inspiration was the experience of pilgrimage on the Spanish Way of Saint James (Camino de Santiago). Thus an idea of a larp about a monastery on a pilgrim route was born.

    Unity of Place and Time

    Brother James preaching to the birds (Play, Irina Abzalova)
    Brother James preaching to the birds (Play, Irina Abzalova)

    The core idea of the larp was to:

    • show the monastery structure as a hermetic microcosm;
    • make possible a unique and rich gameplay on religious subjects which are seldom touched;
    • make the monastery represent a moment in the history of the whole European religion; the Church’s decline and crisis at the beginning of the 13th century.

    The larp was focused on the idea of an individual within the structure, not on the structure itself – that is why the larp is titled Being a Monk, rather than, for instance, “The Monastery”. The Middle Ages were obsessed with the questions of essence and existence, and the existential aspect was crucial to the larp.

    Why 1202? The idea of the Church on the edge of change was an important issue for us. The Franciscans and Dominicans were just about to appear, but their presence in the larp would make the answer too simple. The question was where the Western Christian world would go. Thus, the Benedictine monastery became the symbol of the Catholic Church; its inner problems, the distemper of all Christians; and the participants’ answers defined the subsequent destiny of the Church.

    Why the Pyrenees? It was important that the monastery was situated on a pilgrimage route, and the Camino de Santiago was chosen. Vivid Basque culture created another plotline, throwing together Christians and pagans.

    A Rose Is a Rose Is a Rose Is a Rose

    The key sources of inspiration were Umberto Eco’s The Name of the Rose and Postscript to The Name of the Rose. However, the larp was based not on the books themselves, but on their sources: on the archetypal plots and conflicts. A monastery (though in another region than Eco’s), theological treatises, historical facts and legends, Benedictine regulations – it all formed the larp according to the spirit of the sources.

    The process of building of Saint James’s Cathedral was a plot-defining event of the entire larp. The major conflict of the larp was a struggle (an ideological one rather than military) between Catholics and several groups of heretics and pagans. All those groups aimed to build the Cathedral according to their ideology. The construction combined an actual building process with the inclusion of the symbols corresponding to the sides of the conflict.

    An integrated and hermetic universe was an important part of the game. The monastery was planned as a closed system with no participants outside, and as a self-contained system of in-game knowledge. Not everyone is an expert in the Middle Ages, so there had to be a set of information adequately comprehensive, yet concise. The monastery had to be an entire microcosm for everyone who lived in it. The organizers selected a limited set of in-game information available to any character, and that information was collected in the Library available before the larp and later in-game. Any references to other texts and sources were “prohibited” off-game. Thus the participants could be sure that they had access to everything they could need for fully developed play.

    Spirit and Body

    Burning a witch (Play, Alexandra Koval)
    Burning a witch (Play, Alexandra Koval)

    Asceticism, both physical and mental, was another significant part of the game. It did not use any specific larp techniques, but rather authentic monastic practices that have been working very well for many centuries. Among them there was a daily session in which each character spoke about his sins in front of his brothers, as well as an obligatory confession.

    The monk’s day was divided into “hours”, and his daily schedule included five prayer services, even nightly ones. Lenten fare was used to influence the physical bodies of the participants. Large pre-game introductory texts of liturgy, history and game rules aimed to submerge the participants in the text traditions of those times, as well as serving as part of the asceticism. Even the larp’s length of three full days was chosen on purpose to immerse the participants into the monastery’s rhythm of life, as the rhythm was a defining element.

    Gender issues are unavoidable in such a strongly male-centric game world. Many female larpers wanted to have this unique experience of being a male monk. There is quite an old tradition of crossplay in Russian larp community (mostly with female larpers portraying male characters), but, although the number of crossplaying participants is usually strictly limited, in this case we allowed all interested female players to play monks.

    The larp had 19 sets of rules, several simulated crafts and spiritual/heresy regulations known only to some of the participants. The most important rules were devoted to:

    Spirituality

    These rules contained the doctrines of each of the conflicting groups. Following their dogmas, the characters could gain spiritual power. Obtaining spiritual experience was one of the most important game points for some of the characters. The most advanced characters were especially active in the ideological struggle for the Cathedral. Those who, however, had no interest in this field, were free to avoid this part of the larp.

    Crafts/Cathedral construction

    These rules connected the Cathedral with spirituality. Three main arts – mosaics, stained glass and murals – were a collective work of the majority of the monks. At a fixed hour, all participants created the concept of a future work, filling the template with symbols, which was an important opportunity for heretics to show what they were thinking. For example, by the end of the larp all the frescos in the Cathedral had turned out heretical (gnostic).

    Imagining the Cathedral

    Rendering of the draft project (Pre-game, Vasily Zakharov)
    Rendering of the draft project (Pre-game, Vasily Zakharov)

    We should mention that there are many differences between Russian and Nordic larp traditions. Nordic 360° illusion means “everything or nothing” – if you can’t show something for real, don’t even try. Most Russian larpers consider this a needless limitation. They are ready to accept a certain (and rather substantial) extent of conventionality if it suits a particular larp.

    The construction of the Cathedral was therefore first and foremost a symbolic action, and there’s a huge difference between playing in the real cathedral and building a cathedral with your own hands. We thus needed something that could actually be constructed during the larp and by the participants themselves.

    Things that inspired us were gothic architecture itself, and the novels The Spire by William Golding and The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett, both of which were, in their turn, inspired by Salisbury Cathedral in England.

    Our limitations when making the project of the Cathedral were the following:

    • The in-game building was to house and protect from rain all the participants (about 100 people) during the Easter mass at the end of the larp.
    • The style and structure of a gothic cathedral needed to be recognizable.
    • It was to be constructed by the participants and NPCs without any help from professional builders.
    • The time allowed for construction was 3 days before the larp plus 3 days during the larp.
    • The use of modern tools was to be minimized during the larp.
    • It was OK not to finish the building, as in reality cathedrals took centuries to build.
    • By the end of the larp the Cathedral was to be decorated inside with frescoes, stained glass windows, mosaics, sculptures and handmade candles.

    We decided to construct the building from 25 mm wooden planks, and to cover the walls with cloth and the roof with tarpaulin.

    Southern transept (Post-larp, Olga Vasilyeva)
    Southern transept (Post-larp, Olga Vasilyeva)

    This approach is typical for Russian larps, but this particular project was different from the others not only because of the size of the building, but because it was really much more complicated than anything done by Russian larpers before.

    Our main limitation was scarcity of time and people, so the task had to be simplified as much as possible. We therefore decided not to make a second floor in the building, and to play only on the ground.

    Initially the 3D-model of Salisbury cathedral was taken from Google Earth and used as a reference. Then 1-millimeter precise project was created in Trimble SketchUp. A professional engineer was called upon to verify the project’s feasibility and safety, and his suggestions were adopted.

    Finally, a three-nave basilica with a transept and a tower above the crossing was projected (see the plan). The final dimensions of the building were: 19 meters in length, 8 meters wide and 9 meters high.

    In order to speed up the process we decided to assemble the roofs, facades and the tower on the ground and then raise them up as a whole using ropes and poles – yeah, not historically correct for sure, but definitely dramatic. The projected lift weight of the tower (with the spire) was about 111 kg.

    Raising the Walls

    There was an in-game architect who overlooked the whole process and could take a look (in his personal room where other participants couldn’t see him) at the 3D-model on his laptop. Looking at the model he made sketches by hand on pieces of paper and gave those sketches to the building foremen who oversaw the construction. Foremen further distributed the tasks to workers who performed them using the sketches, and the architect monitored that everything was cut and assembled correctly.

    The participants who were actually building the Cathedral therefore didn’t need any specific knowledge or skill except for the ability to climb a stepladder while wearing a frock and using an electric screwdriver. Those who didn’t know how to do it were taught on-site. In this way, everyone whose characters wanted to work got the chance to do so.

    To make the building process look more authentic during the larp we invented historical designations for all the materials and instruments we were going to use. We pretended planks were stone blocks, the electric screwdriver was called a brace, etc.

    Decoration

    The crucifix, completed (Play, Olga Vasilyeva)
    The crucifix, completed (Play, Olga Vasilyeva)

    All the interior decoration of the Cathedral was created during the larp. The participant who played the head of fresco painters was a professional painter (the only professional of all of us!) The statues of the Virgin and St. James were made of parts of a torso mannequin and a head mannequin with the addition of some insulating foam, plasticine and paint.

    The crucifix was made of plasticine and painted; the crosses above the Cathedral and the baldachin above the crucifix were covered with copper and brass foil respectively. The floor mosaic at the crossing was made of mosaic pieces for bathrooms, on a plywood base. The simple campanile was constructed near the Cathedral and was fitted with brass bells 3 to 20 cm in size, brought by some of the participants from their homes.

    The culmination of the larp was to be at the Easter mass at night, so the stained glass windows didn’t seem like a good idea for that: but we desperately wanted to make something with the same visual effect. In the end we suspended a bright hand-made stained glass lamp in the centre of the Cathedral, highlighting the entire building in colorful shades.

    As a final note, we should say that we used about 3 m³ of timber, and the budget of the construction was about 2500 euros – thanks to the fact that almost all the expensive tools were borrowed from our friends for free. The photos pretty much say the rest.

    Still working at night (Pre-game, Irina Abzalova)
    Still working at night (Pre-game, Irina Abzalova)

    Being а Monk

    Credits: Anastasiya “Domenica” Sarkisyan, Liudmila “Var” Vitkevich, Alexander “Gray” Orlov (Design & Production); Vasily “Jolaf” Zakharov (Cathedral design and construction management).

    Date: May 6–10, 2015

    Location: Rented summer houses near Moscow, Russia

    Duration: 3 days (plus 3 days pre-construction)

    Participants: 80

    Organizers and Helpers: 20 NPCs and staff

    Budget: 8,000 € (30% location rental, 30% Cathedral construction, 30% other stuff)

    Participation Fee: 80 € (in advance) to 110 € (last moment)

    Game Mechanics: Adapted ritualistics, Spirituality, Crafts, Construction of the Cathedral

    Website: http://monachum-sum.livejournal.com (in Russian)
    Cathedral report: http://jolaf.livejournal.com/tag/cathedral (in Russian, with lots of photos and videos)


    This article was initially published in The Nordic Larp Yearbook 2015 published by Rollespilsakademiet and edited by Charles Bo Nielsen, Erik Sonne Georg, et al.

    Cover photo: Service (Play, Nataliia Lavrenova).

  • Starting a Russian Revolution

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    Starting a Russian Revolution

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    A visit to Russian “Larp-poem 1905” to do living history and dream of changing the past

    A cafe in Manchuria (play, Erik Pihl).Have you heard about the Russian revolution of 1905? Don’t be embarrassed if you haven’t, it’s not that well known, not even Russians talk much about it. Yet, it was an interesting and decisive time in Russian history and, as it turned out, a great theme for a larp. A larp with an impressive scale and ambition, a cavalcade of beautiful costumes, and highly complex mechanics.

    The event was called “Игра-поэма 1905“, translated to ”Larp-poem 1905”, and was set up by a group that has done some of the world’s biggest larps. It is also one of few Russian groups with the capacity to invite foreign participants. We ended up being two Scandinavians at the game. Erik played Finnish-Swedish nationalist Konni Zilliacus, a historical character who was active in politics at this time and who has been described as a “Monseigneur cowboy”. Frida took the shape of Anja Sjö, a journalist with communist sympathies. They were in Saint Petersburg to support Russian revolutionaries, undercover as a newspaper tycoon and a cultural reporter.

    Photographers doing real analog photography (play, Erik Pihl).

    Life the Saint Petersburg Way

    Street life in the Embassy districtIt was astounding to see at what rate the old Soviet era children’s camp, in the woods south of Moscow, was turned into a larp version of Saint Petersburg. There were lots of restaurants, bars, cafés, a casino, opium joints, hairdressers, hat makers, an opera/ballet house, an amateur theatre, photographers, telegraph and post station, and several newspapers. The hundred-headed game master (GM) team, together with the five hundred participants, managed to raise most of it in a day. It was a town where you could get a hair-do and a new hat, eat in restaurants, have tea in a café, see a theatre play in the evening, and much else – all for in-game money.

    Not only did these options exist, but many were of remarkable quality. The restaurants and cafés were serving good food, cake and tea most of the day. Each newspaper was told to print two daily issues, which they did, apparently they had more than enough of material. The telegraph station gave the option to send letters and telegraphs to other players as well as to the GMs. From the station some twenty telephone lines spread out, leading to houses all over town. The players could thereby communicate over the phone, through an old fashioned switchboard in the telegraph station, operated by a person constantly on duty.

    A priest talking to churchgoers (play, Erik Pihl).Perhaps the most impressive was the “Mariinsky theatre”. It had new ballets and operas each night, which were one to two hours long. The quality of these were almost as you would expect when going to a real opera house. It was way, way beyond any acts we’ve seen before at larps. The singers and dancers were professional or semi-professional, but had not all met before the game. They created the four evening shows in a week, starting with rehearsals on Monday and did the final act on Saturday. The music was playback but most of the singing, and of course the dancing, were original acts.

    Action scene at the front in Manchuria (play, Erik Pihl).The game had a very well working economy. The fact that there were so many things to spend in-game money on meant that all players had good reasons to acquire and hold on to money. The bills and all kinds of paperwork – there was huge amounts of paperwork – were good looking. For one thing, everybody had their own passport, and you better hold on to it. After the first larp day there started to be inflation, a planned design feature from the GMs. While at first we hadn’t cared much about costs, when the price of restaurant food went up three-fold we were forced to think more economical.

    The producers had successfully created a strict hierarchical system with large gaps in income; rich people had thousands or roubles while poor workers were dealing with kopek coins. The rich people who had property would receive a daily income, while workers were given a petty salary. Although anyone could enter any district, workers were in most cases effectively excluded from play with the higher classes. It seems a focus of the game was the experience of the unjust class system. Having an excluding game design can in some cases be problematic for the players that are excluded, but less so in this game, because with 500 participants you have more than enough play within your own ranks.

    People at cafe (play, Erik Pihl).

    Plastic Fantastic

    So how do you build a city in a matter of a few days? One thing is certain, it cannot be done with the 360 degree “what you see is what you get” realism of Nordic games. At larp-poem 1905, small wood buildings became pompous embassies, a school theatre was turned into an opera house and tent structures were palaces. The popular method of creating the transformation was to put a giant plastic tarp in front of a building or tent, with a photo-realistic image of the building it resembled. For example, the Winter Palace had a photo banner of the actual palace outside it. Although superficial, it did create a good game space where one could get the feeling of walking around in a city rather than camp grounds. If anyone finds it laughable, consider the fact that Nordic larpers use tape on the floor of classrooms for the same purpose. Fact is, the printed banner technique could be seen in other places in Russia, even in central Moscow, where giant tarps with imagery were put in front of buildings under construction to hide the building platforms.

    Ballet on the Mariinsky theater (play, Erik Pihl).If one could get used to the symbolic buildings there were, however, other aspects of the physical environment that were more difficult to understand. It was seemingly a haphazard which things that were put a great effort to make in-game and which things that no-one cared to bother with. While most players had put a tremendous effort into their costumes and personal gear, there were plenty of non-character GMs walking around, in plain sight, wearing very off-game clothes. One even had a big toy moose on his shoulder. There were other GMs who had put on in-game clothes so it apparently depended on personal preference, and which part of the huge Russian larp culture that they came from. Similarly, there could be a gathering of people sitting around a café table with wonderful cutlery, fine cakes and very authentic documents on, but in the middle would be modern soft drink bottles and candy wrapped in plastic. While some restaurant served their food and drink on fine china, others had single-use plastic for the purpose.

    Russian gentlemen (play, Erik Pihl).

    Next Stop: Far East

    A particular aspect of the larp was that it spanned a much greater time and space in the fiction than in reality. The in-game town symbolised all of Saint Petersburg. It was divided into different districts, separated by rivers that were manifested by bright blue or white plastic tarps. The only way to pass between the districts was over wooden “bridges”. These would be drawn at some instances, some predicable and others less so, hence effectively preventing characters to get to other districts. The fact that one could get stranded in a district created openings for social game play, such as when two dancers from the ballet sat in our house for an hour or two in the middle of the night, sharing a drink and waiting to get home to their sleeping quarters.

    Building the train in the train station (pre-game, Erik Pihl).Russia was at this time in war with Japan, a conflict that took place in Manchuria in the Far East. It was possible to go there as well, by taking the Trans-Siberian railway. The producers had actually built a train car out of wood, painted it nicely and added speakers with sounds to give an atmosphere. The train only left three times a day in each direction, so a trip to Manchuria took most of the day. We decided we wanted to try a trip to Manchuria, so Konni and Anja embarked the train as war reporters. After thirty minutes of mingling in the economy class, we arrived to the Far East. The exit was on the other side of the train car. Our whole group was led past the parking lot and into the forest. There we got to a separate camp, built with tents and plastic tarps. It was mainly a military camp but also had a large field hospital and “oriental cafés” with red rice paper lanterns to add an exotic atmosphere.

    Editor of the newspaper The Day (play, Erik Pihl).The war in Manchuria was played out at a battle front of sand bags close to the camp, where volunteers from the GM team playing “Japanese troops” would regularly show up for a fight. Konni jumped into the action at one of the battles and was shot in the arm. They had an interesting system at the game where the weapons used, which were real or well-looking replicas, were armed and shot soft felt bullets. It didn’t hurt to get shot, but it was noticeable.

    One thing that was completely new for us Nordic players was the constant fast-tracking of time. In the larp, one day for the player was three months in-game. Not by using act breaks, but by the clock running constantly during game time. In this way, politics could speed forward and it was possible to cover a larger range of events. It made some things more logic, like the fact that it took a months to go to Manchuria and back, while other aspects were confounding. When we were told something like “I’ll have your hat ready for tomorrow” they usually meant the next day for us as players, not for our characters.

    Switchboard at the telegraph station (play, Erik Pihl).

    Five Is a Crowd

    Russian larps work a lot with symbolism and larp-poem 1905 was not an exception. Not only in the physical environment, like the tarp resembling canals, but also in the game play. Most of it was rule-bound. For instance, if five or more players gathered in a public place, carrying placards and handing out flyers, they were counted as a revolution. That would activate other rules, like that it was possible to kill other characters more easily. The larp never got to a “revolutionary situation”, however, because the police were very effective in stopping the opposition from mobilizing.

    Faust playing on Mariinsky theater (play, Erik Pihl).We saw some very fine examples of symbolism one night, when Anja and Konni were led to an opium joint by the actors from the Mariinsky theatre. They served the drug as beautiful origami art, on which instructions could be read when it was unfolded. The instructions were very precise: 10 minutes of hallucinations and then 30 minutes of joyfulness. There was also a rule that anyone who took three or more doses of opium on the larp became an addict. Luckily, for our characters, we stayed on the safe side of that limit.

    Konni and Anja risked their life and health in other ways, by engaging with the opposition. Anja participated in worker’s gatherings and established contacts with the leaders of worker’s movements. They were connected with Konni, who had a printing press in Stockholm. Letters were sent and some hours later – a few weeks in-game time – a GM arrived with fresh propaganda material. Konni had just delivered it to the distributors, when the police stormed in to catch them. Konni got away on the closest possible call, but the police were on his tail. After evasive manoeuvres, including hiding in the German embassy to avoid Russian law, the gendarmes caught him. He was locked into a prison cell in one of the houses, together with other political prisoners. The window was open and they could just climb out, but the rules would not allow it, because in-game they were on a high floor. The only way to get out was if someone on the outside found a ladder and helped them escape. Anja actually managed to do that, with the help from some students, but when they came to save Konni he had been taken to interrogation and it was too late.

    Having a cup of tea in the train (play, Erik Pihl).The symbolism, together with the possibility to extent time and space, opened a lot of possibilities. It was possible to create a full, functional city and get a good coverage of a large and complex historical event. However, it also created some ambiguity. For one thing, the shooting in Manchuria could be heard in St Petersburg, which was a bit confusing, particularly since shooting was also possible within the parameters of the city. We could occasionally see people asking the GMs questions like “that thing over there, can my character see it?” The many rules required much GM intervention. Still, it was beautiful to see the intricate mechanics that were created for the game. There were so many details. For one example, if someone interrupted the workers in the factories, who were making the felt bullets, or stopped an arms shipment with the train, then the soldiers at the front would have nothing to shoot with and have to fight hand-to-hand in the battles.

    Printed posters for palace (play, Erik Pihl).

    Happily Lost in Translation

    How was it then to play with Russian larpers? One thing is certain, they take larping very seriously. There is apparently much effort put into the role creation. Many of those we interviewed or talked with had well developed characters, where we could dig deep with questions and keep on discovering interesting views and traits. There was also a great focus on playing one’s function. A telegrapher worked hard to send and deliver telegraphs, the police really tried to stop political radicals and terrorists, and the priests put much effort into doing the rituals right. One restaurant owner who served us in his expensive establishment on the English embankment was flawless in clothes, manner and English. We noticed our neighbours, the German ambassadors, sitting up a full night just to sort out their paper work. The clockwork of the game was ticking well.

    Konni in medic scene (play, Frida Aronsson).The dedication that players put into their functions gave many good moments of play. Being checked by police forces before and during train journeys meant some really intense experiences. When Konni got injured in Manchuria, there was a long sequence in the field hospital that was probably the best example of realistic medical play we have ever experienced. The operating scene in itself was some 20-30 minutes long and involved a surgeon and two nurses in intense, immersive play with a lot of different tools and procedures. There was also much energy put into enacting scenes like trials, university classes, and of course the theatre plays.

    What we saw less of was emotional play. There were quite few who took the opportunity to play out their grief of losing a husband or friend, their fear of going to the front, anger towards unjust laws, strong friendship between friends, passionate new-found love, and so on. One GM told us that many view a high degree of acting out as “fake”. It appears that subtle or spontaneous reactions are better received. It was apparent that what many wanted with their larping was to do a good re-creation of the time, their character and the events, and preferably make their character succeed in what he or she was doing. We could see players laughing while demonstrating or lying wounded in the hospital. One larper told us that “we just want to larp to have fun“. That said, the Russian larp scene is huge and there are many different larp styles.

    Military and officers (play, Erik Pihl).Over the board, there seemed to be no great emphasis on staying in character. Players frequently broke game play to discuss something with GMs or one another. In the evenings, when people gathered for some joyful drinking and to sing Russian folk songs, staying in-game was not always that stringent. Many also went off-character to ask us how we were experiencing the game, as it is uncommon to see non-Russian speaking players at Russian larps. They could also stop to explain who their historical character was – a very kind gesture, but a bit difficult to incorporate with the immersive role play that we are used to. In these cases, the language was a saviour. Much of the off-game talk passed us by completely, simply because we did not understand what people were saying.

    The church (play, Erik Pihl).The fact that we were playing on a foreign language was both difficult and very rewarding. Since many players were not that fluent in English, we had to have our two interpreters around in most cases. One situation where it worked out very well was in the medic scene, since the surgeon and the nurses could bullshit anything and it would seem very realistic, only because they were talking in a credible tone. Talking through an interpreter, when you really don’t know what the other person is saying, creates some dynamics that were fun to investigate. The fact that the interpreter can withhold some information can do lots for the game play; not passing on off-game things is just one of the benefits. It would have been a great situation to play out a romantic relationship, with the interpreter in between, so we hope to do that next time. What works less well with the foreign language is to view theatres and public announcements, to interact socially with large groups and to eavesdrop. It would have been almost impossible to understand what was going on and interact with the Russians without our interpreters.

    Officials handling papers at court hearing (play, Erik Pihl).

    The Dream of Unity

    Newspaper boy (play, Erik Pihl).The larp ended with a scene where a parliament was elected, one person representing each of the classes in society. The emperor voluntarily gave up some of his powers, for the benefit of his people and to avoid revolution. One member of the game master crew described this as a symbolic ending, where the characters played out what they – or the players – wished had happened. Like HC Andersen’s “The little match girl”, the players light a match together and, for a fleeting moment, saw their dream of a happy, inclusive nation being born.

    The main game master declared that the game was a way to urge people to learn from history and not repeat stupid mistakes over and over. That we should instead understand each other, think about things carefully before we spring into action, and then move forward – because getting stuck in history is not a good option.

    How did it end for Konni and Anja? They did not spark the revolution as they had hoped. Konni was still in prison when the final gathering was held. We know that, IRL, he was caught and deported from Russia in 1903. It’s reasonable to think that he did not fare much better in our alternative history. And Anja? We think she found her way back to Sweden and took an important place in Konni’s newspaper, to take a stance for worker’s rights and the liberation of the Finns. She did get the communist revolution that she wanted, in 1917. The rest is history.

    Olga Vorobyeva as interpreter talking to anthropologists in Manchuria

    Larp-poem 1905

    Credits: Main designers and producers were larp organizing group “Stairway to Heaven” led by Vladimir “Nuci” Molodych.

    Our personal thanks to Vladislav Rozhkov with family, who helped us get to the larp, with gear and housing, and Olga Vorobyeva who helped us with translations, interpretation and knowledge about the Russian larp scene.
    Date: July 29 – August 2, 2015
    Location: Former children camp, near Stupino, south of Moscow, Russia
    Length: 3 days (active game time)
    Players: About 500
    Website: http://1905.rpg.ru/


    Cover photo: Demonstration in front of the royal palace (play, Frida Aronsson). Other photos by Erik Pihl and Frida Aronsson.

  • Ticket to Atlantis – Fear, Love, Death, Life…

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    Ticket to Atlantis – Fear, Love, Death, Life…

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    Atlantis is a small town in Washington, USA. It’s surrounded by woods, has no phone line, and the mail service works poorly. The only way to come there is by the railway, and the train is the only way to leave. The ticket office is closed, and the quizzical Conductor (somewhat resembling O. G. Grant) won’t let you on the train without a golden ticket. Sometimes a swirling mist comes from the forest, people not hasty enough to hide in their homes and caught by the mist on the streets get ill, or die. But that is not a problem – as everybody who comes to Atlantis is already dead.

    Characters of our larp didn’t notice their death, and all of them decided to board a train to Atlantis for some reason. Some were escaping something, others were looking for a place to start a new life. Some were just traveling without a particular destination. They thought they got a shiny golden ticket to Atlantis in the moment when they actually died. We asked players to fabulate how their characters got their tickets. Their choices varied from trivial; “bought at the ticket office” to strange; “found in a dead man’s belongings” or unlikely; “someone forgot it on a cafe table”. We wrote how the character really died based on these stories. For example, the man who thought he had won the ticket playing poker was actually shot by the loser in a poker game.

    Our players didn’t know that their characters actually died in “reality”. Their characters thought they just moved to a new place, having decided to change something in their life. Having come to Atlantis at the beginning of the larp, they did what any of us would do if we were them – looked for accommodation and jobs, got settled, talked, danced, drank…

    Participants still had to find out that their characters were already dead – either by dying in-game, or after the game from game masters.

    Inspiration

    Ticket to Atlantis was a synergy of music, electronics, Stephen King’s despairing nostalgia about the lost 60’s and the question of what is death and what lies beyond.

    Using music as a meta-technique, as a building block of a larp in one way or another, has been a trend in Russian larps for the last five years.

    Our design team gathered three years ago to create a fully music-based larp House where the world sounds… (2012) based on a Russian bestseller novel House where… (2009) by Mariam Petrosyan. We were so fascinated with how our “musical engine” worked, that we decided to definitely do something more with it.

    Emotional reaction (Play, Julia Tishkova).In House portable MP3 players were used, and the participants had to switch their musical tracks manually, according to specific rules. But in the following year Moscow electronics-for-larp engineers from Ostranna CG made a step forward, so for Ticket to Atlantis we were able to use custom made electronic devices that could switch music tracks automatically, depending on where the player was and what other players were around.

    We read Hearts in Atlantis and are fond of this book. Music is extremely important for its characters, for the atmosphere, and for the book as a whole. Having our experience in creating and participating in music-based larps the idea of making Atlantis into a larp was pretty obvious.

    In the team, we are all in our 20’s or 30’s. We heard about the 60’s, Stephen King’s Atlantis, we read about the epoch, we watched movies, we felt that anguish at the 60’s King writes about, and we regret we weren’t there. We are afraid of the 60’s because we know what they did to people.

    Inspirational pieces: Stephen King’s Hearts inAtlantis (mostly second half), Interstate 60 (2002), Twin Peaks (1990), Across the Universe (2007), Hair (1979), Platoon (1986)

    Hearts in Atlantis is not about the 60’s, it’s about people who survived the 60’s, and are still somehow connected to them. And so was our larp.

    Ultimately, we wanted to talk about death. Death is a thing that’s frightening yet marvelous; marvelously frightening. One is afraid to die, and to deal with that fear, to live with that fear, one has to talk about it. That was our idea. But such talk is not easy, and not many people are ready for this talk right away. So we decided to talk about death without naming it. We decided to ask some questions and find some answers before saying what we were talking about out loud.

    Afterdeath

    We wanted the players to find out what was going on during the larp. It was possible when they died – from a knife, or bullet, sudden illness or a touch of mist. So in-game death was the major instrument here.

    Those who died went out-of-character to a special designated place just outside the playground. What they found there was a room with walls covered with 1970 newspapers from all corners of the USA, with obituaries in them of all the characters with circumstances of their death; photos and short biographical accounts. In that moment they understood at least that what just happened was definitely not death in the usual sense.

    After taking one’s time in the newspaper room, overwhelmed players went to another room representing a train car, and an NPC representing a random, semi-real fellow passenger, almost an inner voice, talked to them for some time while the wheels rattled, helping to sort out what happened and to embrace the new state of mind.

    In most cases it wasn’t a fully in-game talk, but rather a conversation of two people (each of them just slightly covered by their roles) about life and death.

    We tried to make it as comfortable for players as possible and used this communication, besides other, to find out if the player wanted to play on. And to play on was not so easy – as the train was heading back to Atlantis, and player stepped off the train on the same station, in the same role, with all the character’s memory intact.

    The only thing that changed was character’s name, confusing and arousing suspicions in fellow citizens. Special Dark Secret rules prevented the returning characters from discussing the fact that everybody in town were already dead, and forcing them to deny the idea that they had been in the town before and not just recently arrived by train.

    We never considered Atlantis as Hell, or Heaven, or Purgatory, and avoided religious rhetoric altogether. We thought of it as of a place where some people went after they died, just because that was the place they needed to go to sort out what they really needed to sort out, but hadn’t had a chance to while living.

    We refused to judge characters in any manner on purpose. According to our idea, Atlantis consisted of common beliefs of people who came there. They thought it was normal for money to exist and to be dollars – and hence there were dollars.

    When death comes close (Play, Julia Tishkova).They wanted to have a lot of money – and hence the salary for one hour’s work was a thousand dollars. They had subconscious fears – and hence there was the fearful mist (represented by NPCs in silver gowns and masks, bearing smoke flares).

    They had an inner demand for order and the habit of having a job – and hence the town had a Selective Service System office, paying good money for sorting the forms of draftees (with their name, age, color, family, children, job, education etc.) to decide who would go to Vietnam and who would stay in the rear. Grave ethical disputes sometimes arose over these essentially faceless papers.

    We tried hard to create the fundamentals; the core of each player’s game, not of some events but of their character, and insisted on players creating characters as elaborate and interesting as possible. Besides other issues we asked players to take note of Important People who changed their character’s life in the past or just sunk deep in their minds, and of an Important Item that once meant a lot to a character (like a handgun that misfired at a suicide attempt), but were lost long ago.

    For each character we looked for similarities, “reflections” of their important people in other characters and used the “music engine” to suggest feelings similar to those they had had towards their Important People to occur when they met the corresponding characters.

    One could leave Atlantis – by finding the right person who could give them a ticket to a departing train and saying the right words to him – essentially stating that one had had enough of this town and was ready to move on. The train would take them away – ending the larp for the player and taking the character… who knows where, but definitely to some place where they needed to be.

    The Music Engine

    In larps designed using a technique that we call “the music engine” music mostly doesn’t exist for the character. It serves like a personal soundtrack to the player’s experience, and suggests character’s emotional state.

    While creating the characters, players sent us a number of musical tracks, and specified for each track what emotions this music evoked in them. Or, in other words, what music should play when the character was in that particular emotional state.

    We used such emotions as happiness, sadness, joy, fear, interest, anticipation, despair and so on. For Ticket to Atlantis, we created a list of 80 emotions that thus could be provided with special soundtracks, and the number of music tracks players sent us varied from 50 (when a participant used just one track for some of the emotions) to 500 (multiple tracks for each supported emotion).

    The Armlet (Play, Julia Tishkova).All the player’s music and information on emotions was put into an electronic device we call Armlet, that players wore on their wrist. This device played music like a portable MP3 player into the participant’s ears via earphones so a player had a continuous soundtrack for their larp.

    The earphones had to be picked and adjusted carefully beforehand so that player’s ears could endure many hours of continuous use and players could listen to the music and perceive the surrounding sounds in the same time.

    Armlet is an STM32-micro controller (the same kind that is used in modern “smart watches”) based device with a screen, some buttons, digital audio playback chip, standard earphones jack and digital radio chip for data exchange in range of up to 30 meters. Other devices of similar design but simpler, with no screen, etc. (we call them Beacons) were placed around the playground marking specific in-game locations.

    All the devices were constantly exchanging data packets, and thus each player’s Armlet knew where the player was (by receiving data packets from Beacons) and what other players were around (by receiving data packets from other Armlets), and who was closer (judging by radio signal strength). Using this information and information on emotion-to-music relations specified by the player, Armlet chose what music to play. Reacting on characters that were reflections of one’s Important People was the most notable case.

    The critical point that makes this approach completely different from every other way the music is used in Russian larps is:

    Organizers didn’t choose music for the larp and didn’t have to rely on if it would trigger the desirable emotions in the players. Instead, the music is chosen by players for themselves according to their own musical taste and emotional reactions. The electronic device maps the emotions (specified by organizers for different situations) to the particular player’s music, thus creating for players their own, special, unique soundtrack that pulls exactly the right strings in the right moments.

    In some situations instead of music a player could hear a voice describing their feelings or giving them imperative instructions. It was used for drug effects and in case of a character’s in-game death. Drugs were represented by tiny electronic “pills” connected to Armlet, and lack of a pill in case of addiction caused continuous playing of a special addiction track that forced out all other music for hours, until a new pill was obtained.

    The player’s ability to influence the device directly was very limited and rarely needed, thus most of the time player could just listen to the music. A player could only specify (using Armlet keypad) a limited number of intentions (like going to kill someone), and Armlet reacted, for example, waiting for some time (representing the character psyching herself) and then playing a special music track (that a player specifically chose for killing), and while the music was playing the character could actually kill – hence the combat rules.

    Passing one of the earphones to another player was treated as empathy, a desire to share one’s feelings with another person. However, different people naturally feel different emotions while listening to the same music. This pretty well represented the chasm of human misunderstanding. Sex was represented by taking some of the clothes off and dancing while sharing earphones and listening to one of the players’ special sex music.

    Most other rules of the larp (like rules for representing brawls) was also based on some special tracks that could be played by Armlet at some particular time or as a result of player’s interaction with Armlet.

    The Forest

    Atlantis is surrounded by woods and we made the forest a mystical place, accessible at night only, much similar to the Black/ White Lodge in Twin Peaks. There were gazebos there, depicting typical locations in a typical American expression of that epoch – boy scout tent, movie theatre, perfect housewife’s living room, Vietnam bush trench and so on.

    Protest, so familiar (Play, Julia Tishkova).In those places there were Important Items of the characters. Having another character’s Important Item could give you enormous (and definitely not kind) power over that character, but you could bring only one object from the woods so you had to choose whether to take your own item or someone else’s.

    The woods had a special soundtrack, and gazebos were connected by trails made of LEDs (essentially Beacons) that reacted to Armlet presence by lighting up before a character, and going off behind them, and one only could walk from one LED to another. Different trails reacted to different characters, so each character had to find their own way in the woods.

    Perspectives

    Though created in Russia with little to no awareness about Nordic larps, the game seems to follow the Nordic tradition pretty closely. It lasted without interruption for 38 hours, and it used some meta-techniques like music as an instrument for influencing player to affect characters. Of course, Armlets and earphones didn’t exist in-game, a train car was symbolically represented by a room with properly arranged chairs, and NPCs in gray were only representations of swirls of mist, but mostly what you saw in the game was what your character saw. Moreover the larp was psychologically challenging and made participants face some existential issues.

    It was our second larp using the Music Engine. In general, it used the same paradigm as our House where the World Sounds… (2012) though the technique was almost fully automated, creating a personal context-based soundtrack for each player, reducing player’s interference to minimum.

    Margaret Rose, the newly elected mayor (Play, Julia Tishkova).There have been something like 5 – 10 music-based larps in Russia, the trend appeared around the beginning of 2010’s, though games besides the two mentioned above used completely different approaches to using music.

    Another important game that must be mentioned here is Saint Summer (Moscow region, June 2014). Based on Hair, Jesus Christ Superstar, Across the Universe and The Wall and created by our friends completely independently of Ticket to Atlantis, that rock-musical larp explored the 60’s at their peak – with sex, drugs, rock’n’roll and Vietnam war.

    From a musical point of view, it was a complete opposite to Ticket to Atlantis – it used a stage, loudspeakers and hit music to set the pitch and drive the action of the whole game from one extreme to another. Set a few years before Ticket to Atlantis and held three months before, it served as a prequel for a number of players who participated in both projects, some of them playing the same characters.

    Reactions

    We were doing what we called “a kind larp about the good”, though it was neither simple to do nor easy to play. It appeared to be a larp about realizing some simple yet important things. One of our players, talking to an NPC on a “train” after his character died, said that besides his own death, he was much more disappointed with the fact that all other the nice and wonderful people he met in Atlantis were in fact dead.

    The fact that they were dead made them less valuable to him. Well, we tried to convey the idea that death is a choice. Some people die by their own choice long before their actual death, and some continue living even after they die. Our characters had no real cause to consider themselves dead except the fact itself, presented to them in the way of obituary. They could live on, the only thing they needed was the courage to live on. Death has no power over those not afraid to live.

    We should say that in the end, after a larp that definitely was not easy; even really difficult, after some reconciliation with themselves, most players came to feel what they called “warm aftertaste”. And we felt a lot of joy after reading reports about the larp settling down in heads and hearts, people giving up pain and struggle and moving on with joy. It was very warming to hear something like “It wasn’t a larp about death. It was a game about life and about the absence of death”. We are very thankful to our players for saying that and helping us to believe it’s true. We end with some quotes from reports:

    Atlantis was a larp about life that looks like death to those who gave way to fear. I don’t know if I overcame my fear. But I know that this larp made me touch the most frightful fear in my life, fear that pursues me all my life.

    Oleg ‘Luterian’ Lutin, player

    During the larp I faced all my hidden fears: the fear of loneliness, the fear of losing the sense of living, loosing the anchor, losing my place in the world. Sometimes this fear raised up to panic, when the Mist appeared and my head was full of Toccata and Fugue in D minor that scared me in my childhood. When my character was killed in the middle of the larp I suffered from the character’s death much less than from my inner player’s fears.

    Olga ‘Vorobeyka’ Vorobyeva, player

    For me it was a larp of life and one’s place in it. It was about you really can put off the question of whether you should get back to depressing past or start something new, over and over again. Or you can admit there’s no longer you for that past and change your life. Hopefully, to the better.

    Alexander ‘Eden’ Raev

    For me it was a larp, like someone said, about death that becomes life when you feel love. It was a larp about love and loved ones. I recalled why it is so important to love, why is it pleasing and what does it mean to have someone important by your side. And I recalled that there’s no death.

    Sergey ‘Opalennyj’ Belov

    Heavenly shades of night are falling (Play, Julia Tishkova).

    Ticket to Atlantis

    Credits: Nadezhda Vechorek, Vasily “Jolaf” Zakharov, Evgeniya “Nel” Patarakina, Philipp “Phil” Kozin, Dmitry “Kudryavyj” Roldugin, Anastasiya “Suliven” Dobrovolskaya. Electronics development, Ostranna Creative Group: Gennady “Kreyl” Kruglov, Roman “Jam” Leonov
    Date: September 11-14, 2014
    Location: Rented summer houses near Moscow, Russia
    Length: 38 hours
    Players: 70
    Budget: ~€6,000
    Participation Fee: €85
    Website: http://atlantis1970.livejournal.com/271.html


    This article was initially published in The Nordic Larp Yearbook 2014 which was edited by Charles Bo Nielsen & Claus Raasted, published by Rollespilsakademiet and released as part of documentation for the Knudepunkt 2015 conference.

    Cover photo: Welcome to Atlantis. (Play, Julia Tishkova). Other photos by Julia Tishkova.

  • Saint Summer – A 60’s Tale of Music and Hope

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    Saint Summer – A 60’s Tale of Music and Hope

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    Genre: Rock opera
    Theme: Utopia and its Fall
    Setting: Rock’n’Roll festival in the late 1960’s, US
    Sources: Aldous Huxley ‘The Island’, Jesus Christ Superstar, Platoon, Hair.

    The Armageddon: Visions of nuclear war (Play, Roman Vorontsov).The Messiah has been gone for two millennia. The times of rock star messiahs ended half a century ago. We have mass communication galore, but the same questions still stand. In this larp we hoped to find some answers. Many say Jesus Christ Superstar is the best rock opera ever written. Perhaps that’s because the USA of the 1960’s was very much like Judea of the 0’s. In both, the paradigm of the System, the Society, the ‘You are what you do’, the Leader, was being replaced by the paradigm of the Individuum, the Human, the ‘I Do What I Am’, the Messiah. Both approaches have their pros and cons, and Russia nowadays is a battleground for the two (again).

    In JCS, the story of Christ is rewritten as a story of the individual; a story of a idealistic madman who dies, not for idea(l)s but because of other people. By his death he declares his ideals, becoming the iconic representation of these ideals in the minds of people. His personality and deeds are erased, replaced by him as a personification of his ideals. Incidentally, this is as true of Judas as it is of Christ. That story of sacrifice and ascension has been retold in innumerable stories: Hair, Platoon, One flew over the cuckoo’s nest, etc. and played out in many larps. In our larp, we wanted to create a rare opportunity to “strip away th e myth from the man”, experience them in their full complexity, play their stories, and see how myths are created.

    Visions of Utopia

    Vietnam was never far away (Play, Roman Vorontsov).In a sense, the game was set in the USA of the end of the 1960’s and the start of the 1970’s, at a hippie festival; at the same time, it was also set in biblical Judea, and, in more than one sense, in modern day Russia.

    The game space was centered on The Stage. Before the Stage the Saint Summer community radiated out in a rainbow of seven groups. Behind the Stage stood the Wall, beyond which was the System. Between the Stage and the Rainbow, there was a large open space. Completely by accident, in the middle of that space stood a single apple tree, which became, more or less by itself, the Tree of Eden. We placed a toy snake in it. The players then put a haystack under it, and it became the place of much merrymaking.

    There were seven character groups, representing the colors of the rainbow. Each group was historically accurate as to 1960s USA, and each strove towards a different ideal of Utopia.

    This, on one hand, created the conflict, and drove the game forward. On the other, all these teams fit together and, between them, fulfilled every need a society could have.

    • Red was the New Left and Socialists. For them, Utopia was social justice, freedom and human rights.
    • Orange was Brahmins. They sought Utopia through personal transformation, enlightenment through study, meditation and the teachings of gurus.
    • Yellow, the Diggers, were the smallest group. They saw Utopia as the absence of suffering and hunger, and they fed, clothed, and cured everyone.
    • Green, the largest group, were the Free Communes, the Flower Children, the iconic hippies: Utopia as eternal childhood, Never-Never land.
    • Cyan were gonzo journalists. Utopia was the Truth, and all the truth. For everybody.
    • Blue. Bikers. Utopia as freedom. Urban nomads.
    • Purple were the followers of Timothy Leary and Ken Keasy, they called themselves the Brotherhood of Happiness. They saw Utopia as a transcendence, and the freedom to do whatever you desire with your consciousness.

    This rainbow was opposed by the Grays and Blacks of The System, a grotesque, cynical, and very efficient instrument of oppression: Police, Army, State Propaganda, and The Asylum. They, of course, had their own vision of Utopia: order, conformism, stability, sanity, victory.

    Tools and Rules: Sex, Drugs and Rock-n-Roll

    After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.

    Aldous Huxley, Music at Night

    Our game, as many Russian larps, was relatively rules heavy. Still, all the rules were carefully tailored to produce the theme and style of play we wanted. Without going into all the details, we’d like to outline the central game design elements that, in our eyes, ‘made the game’:

    Sex, Drugs and the Space Beyond the Wall.

    Game logo: The Wall, The Eye and The Light (Promo material, Dalia Kochneva).Music was the central medium of the game: everything, all the game rules, from sex to fighting to drugs, involved music. In contrast to other games with a musical engine, e.g. Дом в котором Мир звучит/Dom v Kotorommir Zvuchit/The House where the World Sounds… (2012), where every character was enclosed in their own soundtrack, we made music a uniting experience. It was loud, coming from The Stage, as well as being created by the players, and it was as ”Woodstocky” as we could make it.

    Free love was of course an indispensable part of Saint Summer. Russian larpers are quite shy, and most larp restrict diegetic sex or make it taboo. But not here.J

    To express the pervasive nature of free love, the rules defined that anything creative done with music could be considered as having sex, if the participants so decided.

    To express love as sharing, after the deed the players were told to exchange tokens of affection. These depended on the character’s group: hippies gave bead bracelets, leftists pin buttons with slogans, bikers tattoos, etc.

    Drugs came in three types of in-game drugs (we did not count the other stuff). The simplest, weed, was simulated by incense sticks, and it was everywhere. To ‘light up’, one put some appropriate music on, and lit the incense, and anyone could join if they wanted. The players were expected to behave more emotionally and be more emphatic when high, but also to react more emotionally if things went bad. Personal chemical hallucinogens were modeled using play buttons; small MP3 players that looked like pin-buttons with the game logo. Each play button contained a 10-30 minute story that guided the player down the rabbit hole.

    About a dozen such tracks were recorded: a combination of music, sound effects, descriptions of what a character sees, as well as direct orders to do something, and a ”post/after” effect. Everyone could get a button from a Purple group dealer.

    Lastly, every night a shared trip on the Stage, led by the GM’s and joined by everyone, set the atmosphere and, in some sense, agenda for the next day. The first night’s trip, “Celebration of Misbehaving”, was all about breaking free from The System.

    It started as a humiliating lesson in a boarding school, and then morphed into a concert, where four deities: Jesus (accidentally female but it worked perfectly), Shiva, Bacchus, and a native American spirit, led the crowd in a Beatles singalong, sharing wine and chocolates.

    The second shared trip, “Armageddon” focused on the fears of the 1970’s. It started with everyone playing a competitive game of tag, with loud, somewhat aggressive music playing.

    Sex, Drugs and Rock’n’Roll under The Tree of Knowledge (Play, Roman Vorontsov).Gradually the game changed: the ones tagged were told to play dead, and increasingly violent clips were projected onto the Wall: Disney cartoons, then 1970’s street riots, then Vietnam war, and lastly nuclear explosions. At the end everyone dropped dead, the video showed the aftermaths of nuclear war, and the theme song from the Requiem for the Dream was playing.

    Whenever a character crossed the Wall, they momentarily left the game and went into a meta-game ‘limbo’ where player, as an actor, decided with the GMs, as scriptwriters, where to take the character.

    That was done because, in our experience, when the game changes drastically to the worse, many players either drop out of character or lose their motivation to play, and we wanted to give the players a moment to stand back, reset, and look at their character from a narrativist, not simulationist, perspective. We think it worked, because there was very intense game-play beyond the Wall. Some players, however, hated this ‘limbo’, partially because a similar system was used in the larp Стоимость Жизни / Stoimost’ Jizni / The Value of Life (2011), a powerful art-house larp about consumerist society that left many players with a very bad aftertaste.

    Prison, Asylum and Vietnam, locations beyond the Wall, were run by the GM team, providing “Passions”; hard moral choices for the character, pushing them to become either a Messiah or a Traitor (or, in one rare case, both). Those who chose sacrifice got a white rose and died; those who chose betrayal got a red rose and returned to Saint Summer. Players who did not choose at all returned as well, telling stories.

    Of those, especially Vietnam was successful. We invited a dedicated group of players who, for the last seven years, have run a Vietnam war larp. They brought with them full Vietnam war kit, but more importantly, they brought the right atmosphere; the war mentality, the disgust of the hippies. From the start in the ‘Fort Summer’ boot camp, heavy use of obscenity in marching songs stressed the harsh, masculine, polarized world of the war as opposed to the soft and inclusive Saint Summer.

    Endspiel

    At the end of the third day, the police raided and razed Saint Summer; the bulldozers mowed the Wall and the ‘art installation’ barricades. Many left before that. Most groups had traitors. Others stayed. The overt message of the larp was that Utopia is impossible because humans are made to fall. But the victory of the Utopia starts from its ruin. Messiah crucified, paradise lost, Woodstock ended, but in their destruction they create the dream, and the seed of hope.

    To make the players feel this victory from the ruins, to feel this faith that is stronger than facts, we made the ending ambiguous: in-game, in the finale the police laid down their weapons, while the last news flash, released after the game, said that the police shot down everyone who stayed in Saint Summer. Many players did not believe the news flash, and argued passionately. That is exactly the moment we were driving for. The moment of belief that there is no death, that Jim Morrison still sings, that once in history, the Summer is forever.

    The Summer vs.The System (Play, Roman Vorontsov).

    Святое Лето/Sviatoe Leto/ Saint Summer

    Credits: Olga ‘Shaggy’ Shovman, Ekaterina ‘Freexie’ Godneva, Elena ‘Mirish’ Khanpira, Anna ‘Shakty’ Shekhova, Maria ‘Lotta’ Grubaya, Dmitry ‘Mityaj’ Gruby, Xenia ‘Xenyaka’ Kuznetsova, Seraphima ‘Arnaksha’ Melnikova, Mark ‘Qwerty’ Shovman.
    Date: June 13-15, 2014
    Location: Empty field in the Moscow Region.
    Length: 3 days
    Players: 97
    Budget: ~€2,000
    Participation Fee: ~€25


    This article was initially published in The Nordic Larp Yearbook 2014 which was edited by Charles Bo Nielsen & Claus Raasted, published by Rollespilsakademiet and released as part of documentation for the Knudepunkt 2015 conference.

    Cover photo: “Roses are blue, violets are green / where will you be when the acid kicks in?” (music drugs) (Play, Roman Vorontsov). Other photos by Roman Vorontsov and Dalia Kochneva.

  • Ingame or Offgame? Towards a Typology of Frame Switching Between In-character and Out-of-character

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    Ingame or Offgame? Towards a Typology of Frame Switching Between In-character and Out-of-character

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    For the Moscow and St. Petersburg larp communities, continuous immersion into the game and into the character seems to be the central point of the larp process. Larp rules proclaim continuity of game, and players generally disapprove one’s going out of the character while playing. This attitude is, however, more declarative than a reflection of the practice as it can be observed: larpers, even the most experienced, of course, do drop out of character.

    I got interested in how people perceive themselves and their co-players dropping out of characters, and have studied this topic for my MA thesis. I have collected a database of 600 cases of frame switching at larp using systematic self-observation and analyzed them from the point of view of Goffman’s frame analysis.

    The database collected with the help of 15 players has data from 13 larp in which I took part and from some other larp events. I proposed a classification of triggers that cause dropping out of character that reveals some features of this phenomenon. In this paper, I won’t dwell on the triggers themselves, but will concentrate on the ways in which larpers switch from in-game to out-of-game frame.

    In what follows, a classification of switching types is presented.

    Figure 1

    The first division is based on the social expression of frame switching: we distinguish between those which are externally expressed and thus become part of social interaction, and those which take place in a participant’s mind and get no expression.

    When considered as phenomena of individual consciousness, all frame switchings are first of all “internal” in a sense, like diegesis is a fact of the players’ consciousness (Montola 2012).

    Meanwhile, the game world is a result of mutually agreed behaviors of the participants. Its creation and maintenance involves coordinated activities, some of which belonging not to the game itself but to its meta-level, and so require frame switching.

    Here is an example((Examples from my database contain references to game titles marked with bold italic.)) of internal switching that is essentially an inner experience that disturbs immersion and indirectly influences the participant’s behavior.

    “The First Age”: Sure, there are a lot of reasons why immersion is difficult to reach: for example, playing with close friends makes me think, like, “Oh, it’s just my friend P eter wearing a garb!” So I try to avoid playing with them, but it is not always possible.

    External switchings fall into two broad categories: those which comprise a signal to mark frame change and those which are unmarked.

    Both types occur systematically, but the latter are usually perceived negatively, whereas the former are regarded more acceptable.

    Two kinds of markers are employed to index a frame change, verbal and non- verbal. The Russian verbal marker resembles the Western practice of safewords: the utterance of a conventional word immediately turns ongoing interaction into out-of-game mode (Brenne 2005).

    A safeword is a control device that is used to maintain participants’ psychophysiological conditions to inform partners about the sender’s current troubles having to do with the everyday world.

    In the Russian community, in order to pause the game, either local equivalents of “break” and “cut” are used (literally “out of the game”, “in the real world”) or real life names of participants or their nicknames are employed for address instead of their characters’ names.

    The verbal markers appear in case of meta- game disputes, in occasional conversation about events in participants’ real life or bodily states, or when asking for pause or help.

    It is often uncertainty about partner’s physical condition that makes a player turn to out-of-game question, cf.:

    “There is a craft”: Somebody noticed blood (real) on my eye: What happened to your eye? Oh, it’s a memento about my fail in a combat with a strong monster! It won’t heal until I find him again and kill him. Are you serious?
    (Whispering) And out of play?
    (Smiling) Everything’s OK.

    Non-verbal markers include frame switching signals of various kinds, such as:

    Tactile contact: to approach closely, to hug, to take a partner’s hand, to take aside. This kind of switching markers are used when the rules of the game world ban these proximating behaviors.

    It should be kept in mind that, as far as I can judge from my participant observation at Knutepunkt 2014, Russian larps generally involve less physical contact than the Nordic ones.

    Since most Russian larp game worlds represent a variation of hierarchic society with interpersonal etiquette differing from the way people communicate in everyday life, demonstrations of egalitarian and friendly relationship can signal frame switchings.

    Conventional gestures: hands crossed over the head represent the character’s absence from the game world; a gesture like a time- out signal used in sports like basketball and American football is performed to accompany an out-of-character utterance.

    Facial expression: winking, “hinting” face, expressive gaze.

    Non-verbal characteristics of utterances: lowering the pitch, whispering, prosodic emphasis to index an implicit meaning. Utterances like these often pretend to camouflage the reference to out-of-game things, so as not to break explicitly the magic circle of the game, cf:

    Deathly hallows: Towards the end of the game, during an in-game conversation S. (male) approaches closely to me and asks me while lowering his voice if he can interrupt my playing. I agree. S. asks me to speak to M. (female) who is playing his sister, because she needs a relaxing talk, and his own talk to her has obviously not been enough.

    I call M.’s character, take her hand (my character used to avoid any bodily contact), take her nearer to me, bow to her ear and address to her with her real life name. I ask her whether she wants to speak out-of-game. She agrees eagerly, we enter an empty room together, she expresses her negative emotions connected with playing and participants’ behavior. W e leave the room and continue playing when we hear noise outside.

    In this example, the frame switches are expressed with a range of signals: approaching closer than regular social distance, that is, entering intimate distance, lowering the voice (opposed to what is required for characters’ interaction in the game-world), touching, and verbal means (out-of-game name and expression “out of game”).

    Along with cases where frame switch is explicitly announced, there are some in which the player’s speech is recognized by co-players as such, but it is merged with the character’s speech without specially marked borders.

    Conscious Unmarked Switchings

    Explicit out-of-game utterance is a prototypical case of unmarked and unmasked frame swithing. It usually interrupts diegesis in a rather rude way making participants have to cope with an inappropriate element.

    In the following example speaker A unexpectedly shifts from the character’s speech to the player’s one, mentioning meta-game problems and the game master’s nickname that confuses the partner:

    “France: the Cold Summer of 1939”: An in-game conversation in a pub:

    A: I am looking for my wife. And I’d like to find Bird.
    B: What bird?…
    A: W ell, Bird, our game master. N ew players have arrived and are waiting for the check-in.

    Implicit switching is an action (utterance, gesture) with a hidden agenda; it looks adequate from the diegetic point of view but contains out-of-game information that is expected to be deduced by recipients. This kind of frame switch is appreciated within the community because it doesn’t break the game world and at the same time also adds to playing some extra pleasure to guess the riddle.

    Implicit switchings are mostly used for the maintenance of game illusion in case of some slight metagame problems. Here is an example of such case where the problem consists in mistaking an NPC for a player:

    “The last submarine”: As usual, something exploded, something is out of order, a service technician is needed. One player looks at a passing NPC and mistakes him for a technician: “W e need help in the armory!” I don’t want to bother: “N o, this technician is not trained enough for that, trust me!” NPC nods and passes by.

    In the following example we can see three modes of referring to out of the game information, one after another:

    “To kill a dragon”: We are working in a hospital. We use beakers with special liquids provided by game masters. W e should return the beakers to the organizers for refilling. I collect empty beakers and tell to my colleagues:

    (1) I: I’ll bring them to the medical depot.
    (2) Partner: Where?.. But if they must be brought to orga…
    (3) I (Winking, interrupting on purpose): Listen to me: I’ll bring them to the medical depot.

    In (1), the speaker employs implicit switching: she talks about the medical depot, but actually announces that she is about to go to meet the organizers. This information is to be deduced by her co- player. This is a case of implicit conscious unmarked switch.

    In (2), her co-player makes a meta-game statement with no signaling of its out- of-game mode. This is a case of explicit conscious unmarked switch.

    In (3), the initial speaker makes an attempt to repair game-world communication, recurring to interruption and to signalling the utterance pragmatics by means of non- verbal sign (wink) and intonation. This is a case of marked switch with non-verbal signalling.

    Implicit switching can and often does imply a joke. Obviously, there is a lot of in- game humor in larp, but some of it is based on a second meaning of in-game phrases that thus turn out to refer both to in- and out-of-game things. Such switchings are performed for fun and also contribute to constructing a group identity.

    The humor can be built on a common background of young Russians and thus contain allusions to popular movies, songs, or references to historical, current political and social events, or to internet-memes. It can also be a common memory of a group of real life friends, participants of a long larp campaign who have played together many times, or even just a group of those who had taken part in certain episode of a previous larp. Coming to the joke’s point is a manifestation of a common identity, cf:

    “There is a craft”: Walls in the Main H all are covered with inscriptions. One of them says: “Even a rat casts charms better than you!”

    Rat is the nickname of the participant who plays the Charms teacher. This is insider knowledge of this particular larp community.

    Unconscious Unmarked Switchings

    These are cases when someone makes her co-players drop out of the game frame unwittingly and notices the fact of the switching only from the co-players’ reaction.

    Ambivalent utterance is not intended by the speaker to have double meaning, but while the speaker has told something in-game, her co-player perceives it as out-of-the- game discourse. The speaker keeps in the game world until she catches the fact that co-player has switched into out-of-game mode.

    At first sight an ambivalent phrase looks like an implicit frame switching, but the crucial difference is that here implicit meaning is in the eye of the beholder, it has not been implied intentionally by the speaker.

    The frame switch that the speaker has noticed in her co-player’s behavior becomes a surprise.

    Cues that typically bring about such ambivalence include any statement that can be perceived in both in-game and out-of- game frames, terms that occasionally coincide with concepts from other game worlds and settings, or with participants’ names and nicknames that belong to other characters.

    In the example below, the first utterance is a case of an ambivalent saying that is perceived as potentially ambiguous, while the joking answer is a case of explicit conscious unmarked frame switch.

    “Western: Deadlands”: – I have a headache! – Do you need opium or painkiller?

    Slip of the tongue is an inadvertent use of a word that is inappropriate to this particular game-world, best exemplified by speech patterns like fillers or swearings that that are ill-suited to the game world, or out-of-game names of co-players or other customary patterns of daily speech.

    This kind differs from the previous one in that ambivalent utterance is used by the speaker is an appropriate fact of game world from the speaker’s side, and slip of the tongue is ill-suited from any point of view, but is hard to prevent.

    An altered state of consciousness may also contribute to slip of the tongue that switch frames: players not fully awaken, under influence, or physically exhausted can easily loose control over their discourse (see below an example: the sender does not even notice his slip until his co-players attract his attention to the case).

    “There is a craft”: At night we discuss fighting drills. B. complains how difficult it is to remember the exercises and suddenly says: “When I drive my car, I am sometimes so tired that I stop understanding what is going on…” We gaze at him in horror, but he does not notice our facial expression and goes on. I have to intervene: “What are you saying?” He slaps his forehead and complains in-game that he has lost his line because he is exhausted.

    Conclusion

    Our classification of data from the database allowed us to single out relevant features of cases of dropping out of game-world in social interaction. These are: external expression or its absence, presence or absence of signalling, intentional or non- intentional character of switching, explicit or implicit type of reference to out-of- game world, initial perception of switching by the speaker and/or by her co-player, use of speech cliches.

    In case of an intentional switch from the game to out-of-the-game frame, a player drops out of character because of some inner or outer reason (need, willing to distract, inappropriate conditions etc.) and makes the switching perceivable to the partners (e.g., in order to receive help, to express displeasure, to maintain group identity, etc.).

    In case of unintentional frame switching (ambivalent phrase and slip of the tongue), the author is a “victim” of the effect that her own words produce in her co-players.

    Bibliography

    • Brenne G.- T. Making and Mantaining Frames: A Study of Metacommunication in Laiv Play. Oslo, 2005.
    • Montola M. On the Edge of the Magic Circle. Understanding Role-Playing and Pervasive Games. Academic dissertation, University of Tampere, 2012.

    Ludography

    • “France: the cold summer of 1939” (St. Petersburg, October 2012),
    • “The last submarine” (Moscow, February 2013),
    • “Deathly hallows” (Moscow, February 2013),
    • “Western: Deadlands” (St. Petersburg, June 2013),
    • “There is a craft” (Moscow, August 2013),
    • “To kill a Dragon” (Moscow, September 2013).

    This article was initially published in The Knudepunkt 2015 Companion Book which was edited by Charles Bo Nielsen & Claus Raasted, published by Rollespilsakademiet and released as part of documentation for the Knudepunkt 2015 conference.


    Cover photo: Stockholm Scenario Festival 2014 by Johannes Axner is licensed under CC BY 2.0.