The National Videogame Museum (NVM) opened in its new location in Sheffield at the end of last year, having moved from a troubled time in Nottingham, where it almost closed in 2016 due to spiralling maintenance costs in a listed building. The relocation to more modern premises also brought a name change, from Arcade to Museum.
The success, or otherwise, of the NVM – which is run by a not-for-profit community interest company the National Videogame Foundation, operated by the national gaming agency BGI – depends on what you expect of it. The website promises visitors that they can “play the museum” and “explore over a hundred games”. It also says they will “learn about the art, science and technology of videogames”, and “find out who, how and why people made them”.
The first of these promises is delivered with enthusiasm. The museum is essentially one large room full of opportunities to play, from the traditional line-up of arcade games along one wall – including classics such as Tetris, Pacman, Space Invaders and Donkey Kong – to the stations with block seating where visitors can play Sonic the Hedgehog, Street Fighter II, Rock Band and much more.
There is even the manic running around and light-up wands of Joust and interesting ceiling-high light effects of something called The Wobbler, which was popular with younger visitors who were queuing for a go during my visit. One of several queues of adults formed in front of the 1980s cathode ray television allowing visitors to use a NES Zapper light gun to play Duck Hunt.
Buzzing with energy
The museum is an intense and joyous social experience – slightly ironic considering the solitary stereotype attached to gaming.
All ages were represented and interacted with each other, as older generations explained to the younger visitors that graphics did look like that in their youth and, yes, televisions were really that boxy.
In terms of encouraging discussion and personal interpretation, and in allowing immersive interaction driven by visitor decision-making, the museum ticks all the boxes. The room buzzes with life and energy.
This is a venue where people and the whirring, vibrant objects of the collection interact in a way that many hands-on museums could only dream of. And play is the only authentic way to experience videogames. Comparing those of the past with those of more recent times by playing them is undoubtedly also a learning experience.
If there is a failing, it is in the interpretation and guidance. Visitors move freely around the space, with no signage or map to suggest a route. Games are arranged mostly thematically, but crowds around some of them tend to mean visitors take a haphazard route, avoiding queues and looking for games that trigger recollections or intrigue them.
In this sense, visitors do not gain a coherent picture of the timeline of game development, how the games relate to one another or their technological context.
There is also no clear route for visitors to take when they arrive. The staff are welcoming but make no suggestions on how to navigate the space.
Confronted with a room full of noise and screens, there is a moment when it feels disorientating to the uninitiated. As a museum rather than simply a space for play, it feels as though the venue is lacking an introductory piece of interpretation or a suggested route around the space to lend it some coherence.
The interpretation is left to A5 sheets on each game station. These are interesting, telling visitors the name and date of the game, some of its development history, key facts and the people involved. But they are not that accessible or eye-catching and, as they were not fixed to the stations, several of them had gone missing.
The interpretation certainly can’t be viewed unless you are playing the game, which is a shame for anyone who just wants to get a holistic picture of game development, rather than sit down to play every one. These sheets were not being widely read by the visitors on a Saturday afternoon and, crucially, there were also missing instructions on how to play the games.
Arcade atmosphere
The NVM does have a collection beyond the interactive exhibits. Some of this is displayed in glass cases around the space, with a number of items illuminated. Inside, visitors can see old consoles, vintage Gameboys and merchandise associated with gaming, such as Minecraft Lego. They are fascinating windows into the history of gaming development and its social and cultural impact.
But, again, there are no labels or interpretation, making their significance difficult to understand, unless you know what you are looking at. They do not, apparently, have any connection with the game stations they are located close to. These displays do not feel integral to the experience and are easily overlooked.
Ultimately, the NVM knows its community and will undoubtedly be a hit with gamers and their families playing and informally interpreting as they go. Visitors who are troubled by sensory overload could struggle with the noise levels, colour-changing lighting and lack of wayfinding, but many others will welcome this lively space.
It could not be further removed from the traditional idea of a museum, which is just as it should be for such a modern a subject matter. Ian Livingstone, the chairman of BGI and an NVM patron, talks on the website about the cultural life of videogames and describes the organisation as “the games industry’s own museum”. In terms of an experiential visit, the NVM delivers successfully on exposing visitors to gaming culture and appealing to those already part – or consumers – of the industry.
Shoot ‘em up
What it does not do is draw out the cultural and social influence of videogames or make explicit the heritage and development of gaming. For a visitor arriving with little knowledge of the world of videogames and expecting to be educated, there is frustratingly little on offer.
In the end, it’s a fun few hours for the whole family and everyone will leave knowing at least a little more about gaming than when they arrived.
Rebecca Morris-Buck is a freelance writer and heritage worker
The success, or otherwise, of the NVM – which is run by a not-for-profit community interest company the National Videogame Foundation, operated by the national gaming agency BGI – depends on what you expect of it. The website promises visitors that they can “play the museum” and “explore over a hundred games”. It also says they will “learn about the art, science and technology of videogames”, and “find out who, how and why people made them”.
The first of these promises is delivered with enthusiasm. The museum is essentially one large room full of opportunities to play, from the traditional line-up of arcade games along one wall – including classics such as Tetris, Pacman, Space Invaders and Donkey Kong – to the stations with block seating where visitors can play Sonic the Hedgehog, Street Fighter II, Rock Band and much more.
There is even the manic running around and light-up wands of Joust and interesting ceiling-high light effects of something called The Wobbler, which was popular with younger visitors who were queuing for a go during my visit. One of several queues of adults formed in front of the 1980s cathode ray television allowing visitors to use a NES Zapper light gun to play Duck Hunt.
Buzzing with energy
The museum is an intense and joyous social experience – slightly ironic considering the solitary stereotype attached to gaming.
All ages were represented and interacted with each other, as older generations explained to the younger visitors that graphics did look like that in their youth and, yes, televisions were really that boxy.
In terms of encouraging discussion and personal interpretation, and in allowing immersive interaction driven by visitor decision-making, the museum ticks all the boxes. The room buzzes with life and energy.
This is a venue where people and the whirring, vibrant objects of the collection interact in a way that many hands-on museums could only dream of. And play is the only authentic way to experience videogames. Comparing those of the past with those of more recent times by playing them is undoubtedly also a learning experience.
If there is a failing, it is in the interpretation and guidance. Visitors move freely around the space, with no signage or map to suggest a route. Games are arranged mostly thematically, but crowds around some of them tend to mean visitors take a haphazard route, avoiding queues and looking for games that trigger recollections or intrigue them.
In this sense, visitors do not gain a coherent picture of the timeline of game development, how the games relate to one another or their technological context.
There is also no clear route for visitors to take when they arrive. The staff are welcoming but make no suggestions on how to navigate the space.
Confronted with a room full of noise and screens, there is a moment when it feels disorientating to the uninitiated. As a museum rather than simply a space for play, it feels as though the venue is lacking an introductory piece of interpretation or a suggested route around the space to lend it some coherence.
The interpretation is left to A5 sheets on each game station. These are interesting, telling visitors the name and date of the game, some of its development history, key facts and the people involved. But they are not that accessible or eye-catching and, as they were not fixed to the stations, several of them had gone missing.
The interpretation certainly can’t be viewed unless you are playing the game, which is a shame for anyone who just wants to get a holistic picture of game development, rather than sit down to play every one. These sheets were not being widely read by the visitors on a Saturday afternoon and, crucially, there were also missing instructions on how to play the games.
Arcade atmosphere
The NVM does have a collection beyond the interactive exhibits. Some of this is displayed in glass cases around the space, with a number of items illuminated. Inside, visitors can see old consoles, vintage Gameboys and merchandise associated with gaming, such as Minecraft Lego. They are fascinating windows into the history of gaming development and its social and cultural impact.
But, again, there are no labels or interpretation, making their significance difficult to understand, unless you know what you are looking at. They do not, apparently, have any connection with the game stations they are located close to. These displays do not feel integral to the experience and are easily overlooked.
Ultimately, the NVM knows its community and will undoubtedly be a hit with gamers and their families playing and informally interpreting as they go. Visitors who are troubled by sensory overload could struggle with the noise levels, colour-changing lighting and lack of wayfinding, but many others will welcome this lively space.
It could not be further removed from the traditional idea of a museum, which is just as it should be for such a modern a subject matter. Ian Livingstone, the chairman of BGI and an NVM patron, talks on the website about the cultural life of videogames and describes the organisation as “the games industry’s own museum”. In terms of an experiential visit, the NVM delivers successfully on exposing visitors to gaming culture and appealing to those already part – or consumers – of the industry.
Shoot ‘em up
What it does not do is draw out the cultural and social influence of videogames or make explicit the heritage and development of gaming. For a visitor arriving with little knowledge of the world of videogames and expecting to be educated, there is frustratingly little on offer.
In some ways, the NVM is still more of an arcade than a museum. In this, though, it is an immersive visit to the past of gaming, providing you’re willing to sit down, grab a joystick and give it a go.
Rebecca Morris-Buck is a freelance writer and heritage worker
Project data
- Cost £200,000
- Data Sheffield City Council; games industry patrons
- Architects Just H Architects
- Exhibition design National Videogame Museum
- Graphic design Nick Morgan Associates
- Interpretation National Videogame Museum
- AV National Videogame Museum
- Admission Adult £10.50; Children/Concessions £8.50; Under 5s free
