Anyone who has played a really good video game knows that the music and sound effects of the game greatly contribute to the player immersion into the game. Peppy tunes are used behind Mario Kart stages to channel between intensity and fun while gangster rap is used in Grand Theft Auto to channel west-coast vibes and further help the players escape into a world unlike their own everyday life.
And as for plainchants, they get used to elicit a range of different emotions in video games, as well as to set the scene. Specifically, the range of emotions seem to fall in that of contemplation, intensity, and sometimes melancholy. They set the scene for character introductions and associations, locations such as churches and temples. As an example, let’s talk about my favourite plainchant found in video games: the theme for the Temple of Time in Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time.
Imagine: you are a young warrior on a mission to rescue a beautiful princess in your strange, mystical world. This was everything you wanted when you were living your peaceful life in your forest village, yet it was nothing you could have imagined. You are tired, but determined. You come across a church that the princess told you about in a vision. It is gigantic. You approach it. You step inside, and you are met with a hall of white marble floors, and the familiar crests inscribed on the cement walls. It is all white and glowing. You approach the alter at the back, and you know that the tune the princess taught you in the vision is so be played here. You play it on your ocarina.
I love the Legend of Zelda franchise, and the music is amazing — it’s one of the first games that got me to consciously pay attention to the music in a game, in fact. The scene I described is the scene where Link, the main character in the game (for those who are not familiar), first steps into the Temple of Time. Before this, Link was in a bustling town, filled with chattering voices and the simple, happy, chirpy melody of played by what appears to my ear as a harpsichord. Upon nearing the temple, it the music fades to silence, left only with the sounds of nature. Then, finally, entering the temple, a brief silence — then the sounds of several indistinct male voices, singing homorhythmically, starts playing. It sounds to be perhaps more precisely an organum, but maybe a very early version of one. There are instances of polyphony, though it is not dramatic; they seem to mean to add depth to the original melodic line, but at the same time, I find my ears wandering to the different points of interest. Of the examples we discussed in class, the song slightly reminds me of Perotin’s “Alleluia. Diffusa est gratia” organum with the richness of the multiple male voices used. This juxtaposition of a bustling town with a happy tune, the silence following, and low but piercing voices, creates an overwhelming effect for player. It sets the scene for the ancient, holy, spiritual site of the temple, and highlights this as an important space. The use of a plainchant is the perfect piece to do this with, considering the religious and spiritual context from which it is derived from.
To listen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t6Hf1-lQElE