Skip to main content

Refik Anadol, 'Unsupervised', 2022

 


In a world where AI-generated art is 'burgeoning' according to Gareth Harris, the eye will increasingly witness these immersive, evolving, self-generating images that now percolate museums. Refik Anadol at MoMA in 2022-3 was no exception, a huge installation that was full of movement and change. Transforming the meta-data of the gallery of over two-hundred years of art, and creating a digital work inspired by his findings, Anadol's installation was designed to envelop the viewer walking into and through it as if consumed by it, or in the words of MoMA, a display that was truly 'visionary'. 

Anadol is just one artist collaborating with the machine to produce this generative art that could be our future. The fact that this was a popular exhibition at MoMA perhaps belies a growing institutional awareness and acceptance of these new methods. Certainly it seems to be the case elsewhere - the first 'original' work constructed through AI to come to auction was at Christie's in 2018, the Portrait of Edmond de Belamy which sold for an incredible $432,500. This has a dual implication - both institutional acceptance and market acceptance, which is key to the growth of any art form. This portrait was created from GAN algorithms by a Paris-based collective, so it is an example of a group of artists working with a machine to produce a lucrative product. The role of the human is currently crucial in AI-art - they design the algorithm and the machine steadily 'learns' (rather like a human would) to eventually create its images. Equally Anadol believes that the human is inseparable from his work and is very attached to the idea of 'human memory' in his creations. Unsupervised suggests this, as it is using the collection of MoMA, created by humans, as the base for developing the installation. Anadol's other work is in a similar vein and often relates to humanity's contact with nature, swiftly becoming a memory due to the impacts of climate change. Anadol's Coral Dreams was his version of creating artificial realities to preserve disappearing nature, and is very like Unsupervised in its swirling, ever-changing patterns on a wide screen for a viewer to immerse themselves within. 

Literature just about tolerates the growth of the digital in the realm of art history and the aesthetic. Particularly in the West however, the 'fear of the machine' has been a constant, and has impacted our viewing of art in the past. Artists in nineteenth century Britain desperately retaliated against the machine and returned to the past or traditional methods of production by hand in the Arts and Crafts Movement. Equally the rise of photography threatened the traditional modes of artistic production and painting had to expand to survive, breaking away from the strictly pictorial and into the realm of the abstract. The fact that photography has only relatively recently been accepted institutionally as an art form attests to this long term scepticism surrounding the machine. Now with the growth of digital humanities, the ever maturing algorithm and the production of AI-generated art, the traditional methods of artistic production are being called into question again. Will they once more adapt to survive? Or perhaps our 'period eye' will instead adapt to a mechanical, machine age that accepts non-human art on a level playing field, or even as capable of producing 'better' art, whatever that may mean. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Guccio di Mannaia, 'Chalice for Pope Nicholas IV', 13th century

  As the only work remaining of Sienese goldsmith Guccio di Mannaia, the chalice he created for Pope Nicholas IV in the late thirteenth century is an incredibly important work of art. Not only does it highlight the rich, opulent nature of papal commissions, but it proves the talent of Sienese goldsmiths and their resulting influence on painters and sculptors of the period. The chalice is innovative in shape and form, but it is striking first and foremost through the use of gold. It is an object that deserves to be viewed in the flesh, because of its reflective and therefore mimetic potential – like a bronze sculpture it is activated by light and should be experienced in the round as a three-dimensional, highly decorated art object. Its complicated design features an almost architectonic base, star-like as it spills out towards the viewer. The base builds up into the stem of the chalice which is decorated with an array of enamelled plaques featuring saints, prophets, angels and furt...

Cellini, 'Perseus with the Head of Medusa', 1545-1554

  My eye is immediately drawn to the head of Medusa. At first glance it looks gruesome, as though Cellini has captured the moment just after the head has been decapitated, and it oozes blood and bodily matter. However the viewer then notices the similarity between that and Medusa's hair. Maybe it is just her hair after all. Cellini has cleverly enticed the viewer in here, to take a closer look and therefore involved them in the sculpture as a whole. Once they do come closer, they begin to notice other things such as the similarity between Perseus' hair and Medusa's snakes. Hero and monster are not so separate. Even the features of their faces are very similar. Perhaps Cellini wants to suggest that evil can often wear the mask of good. Or he could even be implying that everyone has some evil within them, even the hero Perseus.  One of the good things about sculpture is that the viewer is able to walk around it, and fully immerse themselves in the piece. Cellini has used this...

Marianne von Werekin, 'Sunrise', 1920

  An endless line of men that tug the rope of a small boat soon disappear into murky, burning red waters beyond. Colour is fantastical, mystical and otherworldly, producing an atmosphere far from reality. This is the Symbolist work of Marianne von Werefkin, part of the German Expressionists that worked in Munich from the 1910s. A movement so often dominated by the male names of the time – Kandinsky especially – Werefkin was a vital participant, expanding the range of art produced and displayed, complementing her work with art theory and written sources, as well as creating her own Salon upon her arrival in Munich. It is easy to get lost in biography with a piece such as this. Wasted, human potential seems to be at the heart of this work, signalled by the endless line of men pushing forward towards the edge of the picture plane. There is a sense of struggle and a universality to the suffering through the portrayal of faceless men in similar blue tones. Looking at the date produced o...