One of the crucial conspicuous features of generative AI tools is their accessibility. With no training and in little or no time, you possibly can create a picture of whatever you possibly can imagine in whatever style you desire. That’s a key reason AI art has attracted a lot criticism: It’s now trivially easy to clog sites like Instagram and TikTok with vapid nonsense, and corporations can generate images and video themselves as a substitute of hiring trained artists.
COURTESY OF THE ARTIST
Henry Daubrez, an artist and designer who created the AI-generated visuals for a bitcoin NFT that sold for $24,000 at Sotheby’s and is now Google’s first filmmaker in residence, sees that accessibility as certainly one of generative AI’s most positive attributes. Individuals who had long since given up on creative expression, or who simply never had the time to master a medium, at the moment are creating and sharing art, he says.
But that doesn’t mean the primary AI-generated masterpiece could come from just anyone. “I don’t think [generative AI] goes to create a complete generation of geniuses,” says Daubrez, who has described himself as an “AI-assisted artist.” Prompting tools like DALL-E and Midjourney may not require technical finesse, but getting those tools to create something interesting, after which evaluating whether the outcomes are any good, takes each imagination and artistic sensibility, he says: “I feel we’re entering into a brand new generation which goes to be driven by taste.”
COURTESY OF THE ARTIST
Even for artists who do have experience with other media, AI may be greater than only a shortcut. Beth Frey, a trained superb artist who shares her AI art on an Instagram account with over 100,000 followers, was drawn to early generative AI tools due to the uncanniness of their creations—she relished the deformed hands and haunting depictions of eating. Over time, the models’ errors have been ironed out, which is a component of the rationale she hasn’t posted an AI-generated piece on Instagram in over a yr. “The higher it gets, the less interesting it’s for me,” she says. “You could have to work harder to get the glitch now.”
COURTESY OF THE ARTIST
Making art with AI can require relinquishing control—to the businesses that update the tools, and to the tools themselves. For Kira Xonorika, a self-described “AI-collaborative artist” whose short film is the primary generative AI piece within the Denver Art Museum’s everlasting collection, that lack of control is a component of the appeal. “[What] I actually like about AI is the element of unpredictability,” says Xonorika, whose work explores themes reminiscent of indigeneity and nonhuman intelligence. “In case you’re open to that, it really enhances and expands ideas that you just may need.”
But the concept of AI as a co-creator—and even simply as a creative medium—continues to be a good distance from widespread acceptance. To many individuals, “AI art” and “AI slop” remain synonymous. And so, as grateful as Daubrez is for the popularity he has received thus far, he’s found that pioneering a brand new type of art within the face of such strong opposition is an emotional mixed bag. “So long as it’s probably not accepted that AI is only a tool like several other tool and other people will do whatever they need with it—and a few of it could be great, some may not be—it’s still going to be sweet [and] sour,” he says.
