Sarah E. Needleman, The Wall Street Journal:

In Philadelphia, the 80-year-old Mann Center has held videogame concerts since 2012. Representatives say the shows attract as many as many as 6,500 attendees, roughly double the average attendance at classical concerts.

The growing popularity has helped offset a decline in U.S. orchestra ticket sales. Over the past decade, such sales have declined at an average annual rate of 2.8%, according to a soon-to-be-published report commissioned by the League of American Orchestras, an advocacy group.

While I had known of the popularity of these concerts with Video Games Live, whose album Kickstarters for Volumes 3 and 4 raised $285,081 and $187,646 respectively, et al., I had no idea of this level of success. Likewise, I was a bit surprised to see “The Legend of Zelda: Symphony of the Goddesses” perform on “The Late Show With Stephen Colbert”, but a bit less so now.

The piece continues:

Unlike classical-music performances, videogame shows feature arrangements that blend looping tracks of music designed to match various moments in a game, such as a slow, eerie medley of piano, percussion and string as the videogame character navigates a castle dungeon.

I think there’s something here. Two years back, in a post titled 1985: Burst and Bloom, I wrote the following:

The sounds, visuals, and interactivity provided a pool of imagination. The limitations of early consoles could not provide orchestral arrangements. Instead, repetitious patterns were drilled into our heads. They not only encapsulated the game we were playing, but they opened the world outside to a new soundtrack, creating a wealth of memories that could be tapped into from a few simple chirps. Hearing these primitive arrangements evolve felt like experiencing the birth of music. As hardware progressed, so did the complexity if the music. Repetitive pieces turned into grand and iconic themes, each game re-shaping the idea and importance of video game music.

Back to the WSJ piece, a quote from illustrator Mathew Grigsby:

I developed a taste for classical music through videogames.

I echo this sentiment.

Developer State of Play:

Lumino City has been created in a unique way. Everything you see on screen was made using paper, cardboard and glue, culminating in the building of a 10 foot high model city. Laser cutting was used to create finely detailed environment, and miniature lights and motors were built in to bring it to life.

This game is truly a work of art. Not to mention the captivating execution of story just moments in.

“Winner of numerous international awards including the BAFTA for Artistic Achievememt…” For some reason, regrettably, I held out on playing the Mac version. Happy to have this in my pocket. Looks stunning on iPhone 6s.

Lumino City is now available for iOS.

The news never stops. Sometimes, this blog does. But only because the News never stops.

“Cheri…! How do you spell ‘Sierra?’” a question I would often shout to my step-mother from an adjacent room. Their PC housed a game called Quest for Glory. Somewhere between my limited knowledge of MS-DOS and the English language, I would ask and re-ask this question, eventually running the prompt C:\sierra\glory.exe. To add to the naivety, I didn’t learn how to intiate mouse control until my dad’s friend (and King’s Quest junkie) relayed the message to me. For years, I had been playing a point-and-click without, well, a mouse to point and click.

Nonetheless, today is different; though, not entirely far off. I’ve completed the first chapter of the King’s Quest reboot on PS4 without a mouse. And boy, did it feel great.

At heart, I’m a Quest for Glory kid. In any case, my memory serves King’s Quest far from simplistic and innocent, but dashed with bits of humor and challenge. That said, the personally and puzzles in the reboot feel more realized and extemely fitting.

Princess Bride notes ring hard and true, from a grandfather’s storytelling to a cast including Wallace Shawn (and Christopher Lloyd, not to be left without mention!), but it’s all a lovely addition and somewhat apt recalling of the memories of playing the (or those in spirit to the) original game. The humor and trials dance between easy no-brainer to truly challenging exercises of “wit.” And while most of the game’s writing and development is close to that of a better than average Disney film with clever storytelling devices strewn about, there is one surprising and appreciated moment that brings some weighty emotion; its effect ringing subtly through the remainder of the chapter.

The first of five chapters, A Knight to Remember, resolves with satisfaction. The art direction is gorgeous, animations fluid, and the writing is sure to land a few square chuckles with all age groups. The game comes off as a Disney movie that you play. Not to mention it took much longer than I had expected to complete. While I’m one for concise games these days, it felt appropriate that King’s Quest had more to ofter than anticipated. This coming after viewing a score of 6.5 from one of my favorite game reviewers.

King’s Quest is a worthy play and I am eagerly looking forward to the next chapter.

I remember Disneyland’s 50th like it was yesterday. 50 Mickey’s hidden throughout the park. Golden Ears that sold out within hours of park opening. But most of all, I remember the firework show, “Remember…“. It took guests through memorable moments of each of the park’s past and present rides. Moments that many of these guests had experienced firsthand, likely that same day. And to make “remembrance” of those firsthand accounts all the more immersive and visceral, fireworks and lasers enveloped the audience standing in and around Main Street’s Central Plaza. It was awesome, breathtaking, and surprising. It was the part of the celebration that will stick with me forever.

The 60th’s Paint the Night parade followed by the Disneyland Forever firework show will not. The parade, a bombastic cacophony, flirts with the idea that it is the next evolution of the original Main Street Electrical Parade, utilizing over 1.5 million LED lights. Unfortunately, whimsy and character are stripped from the show in the name of gigantic displays, unnecessary rear projected faces (made famous by Midway Mania’s Mr. Potatohead), and a thudding and messy electronic/dub-step Owl City score. The only favorable takeaway I had was the brilliance of Mack’s (Cars) 3D LED ball trailer.

In the vein of l Remember…, Disneyland Forever kicks off before the inception of Disneyland, in the orange grove before it, and mashes a seemingly unrelated Walt quote followed by seemingly unrelated Disney films from Mary Poppins to Winnie the Pooh to Jungle Book to Lion King to Frozen into a mish-mosh arch of past to current Disney hits. The show attempts to stretch the Main Street immersion created for Remember… by projecting an ever-shifting array of backdrops on all of Main Street’s buildings. It’s is a nice gesture to the folks standing in the trench, but it ends up becoming an unfulfilling distraction from the fireworks and story as it’s truly difficult to make out the projections against the building details themselves. And then there was something about the fireworks being a goodnight kiss. No cohesion.

Not to sound like an old stickler, but back-in-my-day imagination was key. The closest equivalent I can pin this spectacle to is the Star Wars prequels and their over reliance on CG. Now it seems Disney has injected the over stimulation today’s kids have with smartphones in strollers in Disneyland right into the park entertainment itself. It’s a noisy, chaotic, and confused affair that leaves nothing left to the imagination but the wonder of how many plush toys from aging Disney franchises they can sell before the night’s end. All I wanted to do after Remember… was ride every ride again by night’s end.