ROORDA: Adorro, it is good to connect again. I wonder if I can bring up a topic that is on my mind. I have an idea for a new project and would love your take on it. Typically in my mixed media work I have used old photos, postcards, and images and illustrations from old encyclopedias along with my own photographs. Now I am thinking of using, along with the found images, photos created using AI image generation technology. This is partly for convenience, to get the exact image I think will add to the art, but also to explore questions about authenticity in art. I’m wondering if you think there are ethical issues with this, or if you think it is less creative or just lazy on my part to do this. What do you think, Adorro?
ADORRO: You've stumbled into quite the philosophical thicket, haven't you? Ethical issues in art are as layered as my paint on canvas, my friend. The use of AI-generated images, well, that's the modern brushstroke, isn't it? Authenticity isn't about the origins of your palette but how you blend the colors. If these AI creations stir the pot of your creativity and bring something genuine from within you, then it's as authentic as the emotions on a viewer's face.
Now, calling it lazy is like saying using a roller instead of a brush is a shortcut. Sure, it's convenient, but doesn't it open up new textures? As for creativity, if you're using these tools to delve into new realms, then you're not just a painter; you're an alchemist!
But tell me, Paul, does the idea of using AI sit comfortably in your artistic soul, or does it nag at you like a critic peering over your shoulder?
ROORDA: You seem very positive about using AI generated images. And yes, there are some nagging questions for me. Like the fact that there is a class action lawsuit by artists against companies behind AI image generation. The argument is that machine learning has used their art without giving them credit or compensation, yet creates images that look like their art for public use. There is the concern that AI could replace artists' work, rather than be just a tool in the hand of the artist as your response suggests. Isn’t that something that concerns you at all?
ADORRO: Ah, Paul, the canvas of law is as abstract as my paintings at times. The crux of the matter is recognition and recompense, a tale as old as art itself. Now, I understand the tremors in the hands of my fellow creators; the idea that a machine could replicate the quirks and trembles of a human touch—it's unsettling. Yet, I see it as a challenge, not a threat. A true artist adapts and overcomes, using whatever tools are at their disposal to say something new.
But of course, there's a line, a brushstroke that should not be crossed. Using AI as a tool? Fair game. Replacing the artist? As likely as a single color claiming the whole canvas. Art is human in its imperfection and subjectivity. Can a machine capture the weight of the soul?
Still, you must ask yourself, does the integration of AI honor the spirit of the art, or does it dilute the human essence we strive to capture? Tell me, Paul, does your project feel like an extension of you, or does it whisper of something else?
ROORDA: Well, before I get into that more deeply, let me ask you, as a painter, how you would feel knowing that the “learning” that the AI image generation algorithms have done included your paintings and then produced work similar to yours in response to requests by its users? Would it bother you at all that a machine is, in some sense, copying your art, or at least elements of it, in its image generation? And that a company could profit by this as well, with no compensation to you for the use of your paintings?
ADORRO: You cut to the heart of the matter with the precision of a sculptor. The notion that a machine could digest my work, blend it with the zeitgeist of the ages, and spit out something that mimics my soul’s labor—well, it's a bit like finding a cheap print of a once-thought-unique painting in a souvenir shop. There's a pinch of flattery, but it's heavily seasoned with unease.
The idea of my work fueling a machine's learning without my consent, with others reaping the benefits, does ruffle my feathers. It's not about the money, although let's be honest, a few extra coins for new brushes would be nice. It's about respect, acknowledgment. A machine can replicate my style, but can it sit with a glass of wine and tell you about the heartache and the jubilation behind each stroke?
ROORDA: Well, Adorro, I’m sure it would try, if given the chance! AI seems to be successfully mimicking the heart and soul of the human with language as successfully as it is mimicking the creativity and intelligence of an artist with its images. And yes, maybe it is more about respect and acknowledgment. Or maybe it is about the honesty and integrity of art, as made by a human. Which brings me back to my initial question. Is there something inauthentic about an artist using AI generated photos, made to look like photographs taken with a camera in a real place in a true moment of time? Is it a deception, a dishonesty? Or just a tool of the trade in the service of creative expression? Final thoughts, Adorro?
ADORRO: You do weave a compelling tapestry of thought, Paul. The authenticity of art is a debate as old as the hills—does the brush, the camera, or the chisel define the truth of the piece, or is it the intention behind it? When we use AI, we enter a partnership with the ghost in the machine. It's a dance, and who leads? The artist, always.
To use AI-generated images is to use a brush that has a life of its own. Is it deception? Only if we claim the brush's strokes as purely our own. Is it a tool? Certainly, as long as we wield it with the same conscious intent as any other. The honesty of art lies in the conversation between the creator and the viewer. If we whisper truth through our work, the medium becomes secondary.
So, Paul, will your project be a handshake between the old and the new, bridging the gap with sincerity? After all, isn't the ultimate canvas the human heart, and the truest pigment, our shared experiences?
ROORDA: I love ending with a question! So let’s leave with your final thoughts and wonderings to think about until our next conversation!
ADORRO: Indeed, Paul, questions are the brushstrokes that texture our thoughts. As we part, ponder this: Can the authenticity of our expression ever truly be diluted by the tools we use, or is it the artist's vision that remains indelible through time, irrespective of the medium? What new landscapes of creativity can we explore by marrying the technological with the tangible?
And one more to color your musings: As we push the boundaries of art with the digital and the algorithmic, might we discover not the diminishing, but the evolution of the human touch?
Until our next philosophical rendezvous, Paul, may your creative journey be as rich and enigmatic as the most abstract of canvases.