You may have noticed that so-called AIs are suddenly ‘flavour of the month’, which I find doubly annoying because not only do I hate the phrase ‘flavour of the month’ but I am embarrassed to find myself fascinated by something that might be classed as such.
But there is no helping it: I am fascinated by AIs — and particularly the ones that generate images. For the last couple of months I have been using an image generator called midjourney to produce a wide variety of pictures, including traditional flower paintings, landscapes, cloudscapes, ‘paintings’ in the style of Claude Lorraine, Cezanne and Caspar David Friedrich, illustrations in the style of Heath Robinson, decorative lettering, representations of precious objects, monstrances, mandalas and medallions. I even had it design one of last year’s Christmas cards.
All of this (admittedly) is accompanied by a degree of shame, brought on by the realisation that I have permitted myself to regard these things as my own creations. Since mid October my Instagram feed has consisted solely of generated images, with my own earlier work seemingly abandoned. I don’t intend to stop making pictures the old-fashioned way, its simply that right now I feel unsure of the direction I wish to take.
These (so-called) AIs are highly sophisticated computational systems capable of producing images in response to simple textual prompts. Supplied with a prompt, which might be anything from a single word to a short paragraph, midjourney initially produces four images from which you are encouraged to select one for further elaboration. Small tweaks to the prompt produce variations and refinements.
I have been trying to think of a metaphor to capture what this process feels like. The prompt is like a spell incanted over some sort of mysterious cauldron. The appeal of the comparison is heightened by the fantasy that there might be some secret combination of words capable of summoning an image of unparalleled beauty. On a more mundane level working with midjourney feels a bit like fishing. You bait your hook as well as you can, but what lies below the surface of the water is largely unknown. Who knows what you might catch?
So the first of this new generation of images that is more than a simple case of butterfly collecting is called Gone Fishing. It shows an abandoned studio complete with brushes, pots of paint and so on, to which I have added a representation of one of my own earlier digital pictures. The artist is absent however – gone fishing.
It’s a start.
Well! That was a good read. Cheers!
I should publish the one you ‘conjured’ remotely.
I notice the image of a bowl of fruit in the Gone Fishing arrangement
I came across something very similar which now adorns a wall of our dining room
The difference being, Graham, that the one in my picture is showing sad signs of neglect whereas I trust yours remains pristine.
Interesting and well written David. A little scary though. The redundancy of musicians, artists, authors beckons perhaps. Nick Cave and others are railing against it but ‘progress’ may trample all?
Thanks for your comment Paul.
I find it unsettling too but, on a more optimistic note, it might serve as a spur to artists, writers and musicians to ‘up their game’. We might see renewed value being attached to creations that are clearly the work of real, flesh and blood individuals.
After all, the emergence of photography (and recorded music) probably led to similar anxieties but as things turned out they found their place as part of a richer artistic ‘ecology’.
Apart from being very interesting, it made me look up monstrance to find that it has a synonym ostensorium which I’m sure will come in useful one day.
I have to confess to having a weakness for ecclesiastical bling.
Just curious, why didn’t you put the images in the blog post…?
I like to keep the blog textual.
It is part of the website which has lots of images, some accompanied by a written commentary
I think that Ai has a place and who knows how it will develop but I don’t think it will ever replace great art. It does raise interesting questions of attribution and copyright though, doesn’t it?