Is it okay to love something and then hate it once you find out that it was generated by AI? Absolutely.
A few months ago, large swathes of the Northern Hemisphere were treated to a spectacular display from Mother Nature. Thanks to a spike in solar activity, the aurora borealis reached farther south than usual, and, having failed to spot the reports, my partner and I were shocked late one night to find ourselves staring up at a faint, nebulous glow in the sky that we couldn’t explain. Eventually, we realized, and, like countless others, snapped photos on our phones and shared our excitement with friends and family.
Northern Blights
Countless images swirled online, and inevitably, what went viral was contaminated by AI slop. Casually scrolling on a tiny device, you’d be forgiven for not being more discerning, and I’m sure that many of those liking and sharing some of the crap that emerged would feel embarrassed at having been taken in. Promoting their engine, Meta suggested that if anyone had missed out on seeing the northern lights, they could make up for it by creating their own photos using MetaAI. Inevitably, the response from the public was not kind.
In the words of XKCD, some of my most valuable adventures were driven by a desire to go and take a photo. The idea that AI can give you a shortcut to that experience is so mind-bendingly obvious that it’s no wonder that people were so quick to tell Meta where to go. “This is a massive **** to so many photographers and artists,” wrote norcalstormchasing on Threads, reminding us that the images created by MetaAI are built on the hard work of people’s creativity.
The Death of Experience
It goes further than this, however. It’s not just a **** you to photographers and artists; MetaAI is promoting the idea that experiencing something can be replaced by a simulation, as though all of the value of a photograph is embedded solely in the final product and not in the processes that led to its creation. The photographs represent an experience that people value; the AI images represent nothing.
My Four-Year-Old Could Have Done That
Before Christmas, I finally made a trip to the Musée de l’Orangerie, home to Monet’s immense Water Lilies, eight huge canvases displayed in two oval rooms where signs politely ask you to engage with the artworks in silence. This creates a unique, meditative atmosphere, making you stop, be present, and engage with what’s before you. I’ve not experienced anything quite like it. Monet’s work is deliberately loose, with thick brushstrokes and little detail; when taken out of context and with no knowledge of Impressionism or the piece’s significance, you’d be forgiven for assuming that it was the work of a novice painter or perhaps even a child.
Emerging in the 1870s, the Impressionist movement heralded the phrase “my four-year-old could have done that,” exploring human perception and experience through depictions of scenes—often unremarkable—characterized by freedom, a break from traditional painting techniques, and a shift toward abstraction. At a glance, without any knowledge of the history of art or the artists’ intentions, it looks like bad painting. However, when you learn about why this style emerged and what the artists were trying to achieve, there is a human connection, a social understanding that has the potential to expand your mind and take you beyond the surface.
Pushing this further is the work of Mark Rothko, himself inspired by Monet who had “a direct awareness of an essential humanity,” as Rothko described it. Many of Rothko’s works are huge canvases featuring minimal blocks of color, one of the most extreme examples being “Untitled (Black on Grey)”, with the title offering almost as much information as the painting itself.
The Medium Is the Message
Regardless of whether you’re bored by Monet or have no time for Rothko, you can’t deny their processes—not just the act of putting oil on the canvas, but all of the social dimensions that caused these artists to emerge. They each had a distinct process and a clear intention, responding socially, politically, and culturally to the world around them. Can you argue the same for AI-generated artwork? To a degree—it’s a response to the rapid social and technological changes, perhaps the difference being that AI art offers little beyond what’s on the surface. To misappropriate the words of McLuhan slightly, the medium is the message, and when the medium is built on a few lines of text submitted to a machine, what depth can that message contain?
Last year, direct Guillermo Del Toro explained that AI can achieve “semi-compelling screensavers.” “The value of art is not in how much it costs and how little effort it requires,” he went on. “It’s how much would you risk to be in its presence?” Art is a reflection and an expression of our humanity, so why would we invest our emotions in an art form that is built on removing as much of it as possible?
Art Is Social
Art is fundamentally social; it is built on an understanding that the artist experienced something, whether that’s the concepts of minimalism and purity guiding oils and a paintbrush across a canvas or a 4 a.m. start to climb a mountain in a snowstorm. “Art is an adventure into an unknown world, which can be explored only by those willing to take risks,” said Rothko, and beyond the occasional social media backlash, AI art is all but void of risk. When you see a photo of the northern lights, you know how it feels to be overwhelmed by nature, a feeling that creates a shared bond—albeit a small one—between you and the photographer. The image is representative of that experience, and sharing it is part of our social connectedness. With AI, that social bond does not happen, as the humanity barely existed in the first place.
It’s okay to love AI art. Equally, there’s no hypocrisy in suddenly hating an artwork upon discovering that it was created by AI. Once there is the realization that the intention and process were not what you assumed, and that the humanity—the emotion, the effort, the artist with whom we share a culture—never existed, our connection to that “artwork” is destroyed.
I’ll leave you with one more fantastic quote from the incredible mind of Mark Rothko:
The appreciation of art is a true marriage of minds. And in art as in marriage, lack of consummation is grounds for annulment.
Full disclosure: The lead image was generated by ChatGPT 4o. I hate it.
The issue I saw often on FB was people would post an 'Astro' photo that they painstakingly worked hard on, then 7-people would jump on and claim that it was fake. Granted with 'Astro', the word 'fake' is a tough call, when in order to produce some images, they needed to be heavily processed and colored... but the word 'fake' is not the right word. What I'm saying is: When you see those beautiful images from Hubble and James Webb, they are 'Colored' and heavily processed to look the way they do. But when someone posts a photo of Jupiter's transit of the Moon, that doesn't mean you need to jump on and go 'Fake'. There may be processing involved, or multiple shots combined, but it was not produced by an AI computer.
So this has spread to other genres too... where you can no longer be sure, if the person actually took the photo, or if they were at the landscape location. Or did they replace the sky with AI...? I get that... I'm ok with the AI-revolution though. But don't be too quick to judge AI or not when maybe they actually did take the photo.
Good points
Maybe it's time to stop calling this stuff AI art. Maybe AI pictures, or AI graphics... which makes more sense. Computer generated imagery (CGI) has been used for decades in movies and television without much controversy. But the minute you tag something with the label "art," it stirs up all kinds of controversy. And that's a pretty old argument. Photography has fought since the 1800s for respectability as an art form, and to this day I'm sure that it's still considered a lesser art form by many. After all, what separates an artful photograph from a snapshot? You can cite the photographer's intention and depth of thought, but there are no clear dividing lines differentiating one from the other from the viewer's perspective.
The funny thing is Astrophoto is the less photographic genre of all. Every single astro photo looks like another photo of the same subject with better or worst process technics or technologies. It doesn't surprise me that random people could believe astro photo is 100% computer made because the photographer behind the camera is pretty useless.
umm... wow that could sound pretty offensive. Maybe I need to read it a few times to digest. I posted two 'Astro' photos in the current contest. I was afraid to post the regular 'Eclipse' shot for that very reason, that I thought it would be considered boring. But surprisingly, people have given it a lot of love. Especially outside the contest. More unique is the other 'Sun-Shot' Because you probably don't see a close-up like that as often. At that same time, people have not given it as much love. As far as astro in the current contest, there is a wonderful shot: What I found fasinating and gave it 5-stars. "Photo composite of the 2023 Annular Eclipse" by Jv Neu. You can't find anything unique about any Astro photos?
According to my count at this time, there are 15 images in the "most difficult" competition which fall in the category of astrophotography, and every one is different. It's interesting that that particular genre presents so many challenges to so many people which fit the criteria of the competition. We all know that AI may very well replace or provide another option for some of our work, but I've never considered the mind of a photographer to be useless. At least I hope I'm good for something more than nothing, no matter what I choose to photograph.
To Valentin's point though, I suspect about any photo of any subject in any genre could be suspected as computer-generated; not because the photographer is useless, but because AI can produce about anything. Authenticity is besides the point. The harder it would appear to actually have been in the place to actually shoot the picture in question, the greater the suspicion will arise that it's a computer-generated image, or Photoshopped to some degree.
You might be interested in the link that I posted below about an astrophotography exhibit in London. Incredible images.
There's no such thing as a "least" or "less" genre of photography. Every picture can be elevated or reduced in terms of quality and impact as a result of the photographer's technical skills and decisions regarding composition. Every image from every genre has the capacity to be unique. The Milky Way is a commonly photographed subject, but how it's combined with a subject on the ground can differentiate one from another. Same as landscapes, architecture, portrait or any other genre.
With "astrophoto" i mean the sky with whatever a star, the moon, constellation, etc. No landscape. These photos could be taken by a telescope and a good software (i.e to find what you want, move by itself, take the shot, edit...). That's why i said astrophoto doesn't need photographer. It's more an engineer/techie/science amateur hobby than photography.
IF i follow your way of thinking, Taking shots of painting with MF to get a high resolution "scan" is photography. Using a microscope ? Photography or not ?
It's OK to have fun with astrophoto if you want but we have plenty of the same Milky way/Moon/whatever on Internet and none of them are in a museum :D
Hi, Valentin... thanks for your comments. My way of thinking is this:
Photography has the capacity to open the eyes and mind of the viewer to sights and thoughts previously hidden or unexplored. If you want to look. I can't force you to appreciate images of distant stars and galaxies, any more than I can force you to appreciate sports or architectural photography, or Star Trek. But the opportunity presents itself in any genre, for those who are open to seeing, and in the case of astrophotography... imagining.
A photograph of a painting is a reproduction, and is usually made for the widespread distribution of that painting (advertising/giclée prints), but yes, it's photography because there are many good and bad ways of photographing a painting. In fact, the local museum hired me to photograph some of their collection of fine art because getting the colors accurate to the original, while eliminating glare and refections, is quite challenging and beyond their photographic skill level.
My point is that getting hung up on the manner in which the image is created is no more than an academic argument. Euclid space telescope or pinhole camera makes no difference. We choose our tools based on what we're trying to accomplish with them. The point of photography is to enlighten, as are all art forms.
And to state that astrophotography is not in a museum is simply wrong. You can go to an exhibit at The Royal Museums Greenwich if you happen to be in the London area, or see many of the images on their website. An entire section is devoted to stars only; no earth or foreground elements. Very much like an abstract painting, which are in every art gallery. To some people those all look the same too.
"A photograph of a painting is a reproduction, and is usually made for the widespread distribution of that painting (advertising/giclée prints), but yes, it's photography because there are many good and bad ways of photographing a painting."
-> You describe the technology man. Do i have to tell my printer Ricoh MPC6503 that she is a very good painter ? :D
"In fact, the local museum hired me to photograph some of their collection of fine art because getting the colors accurate to the original, while eliminating glare and refections, is quite challenging and beyond their photographic skill level."
-> My point is photography is not about skills or "challenge". You describe a good pro or an amateur. You can easily be a very good technician and a bad photographer (and it's totally OK).
"My point is that getting hung up on the manner in which the image is created is no more than an academic argument. Euclid space telescope or pinhole camera makes no difference."
-> I disagree. You right, we don't care about the technology used BUT the subject is. That's why, generally, you can make 3 distinct categories of photography :
- Amateur photography : The shot is about the subject in the photo. You have to make the best representation of the subject (Macro, astro, landscape, portraits in some ways).
- Pro photography : Same but with performances obligations to fulfill a contract. In fact the subject is the client.
- Art photography : You are the subject. Whatever you takes shots of, it's about you and your vision. It's always about humans. That's why 95% of the legendary photographers come from street photography, reportage, private life and sometimes fashion.
NB : A photographer can be in 1, 2 or 3 categories in the same time. It's not closed categories. A lot of legendary photographers had clients too.
I have to precise what i said before. When i say "Photography", i was talking about Art photography because this is what remains at the end. Me and my thousands of Toy photos will never be at the MOMA haha.
"And to state that astrophotography is not in a museum is simply wrong. You can go to an exhibit at The Royal Museums Greenwich if you happen to be in the London area, or see many of the images on their website:"
-> Sorry but photography competitions are shitty baits. None of those shots (which are very cool te see however) will be in History of (Art) Photography. Maybe in science review.
You have to give your Ricoh MPC6503 printer good instructions or the print won't look at all like the painter's painting... and the painter will be very unhappy. Of course the print is not original art, that's why it's called a reproduction. Of course the photographer is obligated to fulfill a contract and satisfy the expectations of the client. That's how the large majority of the photography business works. Of course different photographic skills and experience are required for this type of work, which lean more heavily toward technique than vision. Of course, art photography requires different skills and thoughts, which rely more on personal vision than technique.
But even with fine-art photography, technique is not without importance. As you say: "You can easily be a very good technician and a bad photographer." That's true. I say you can't be a good photographer of any genre (art, commercial, portrait) without being a good technician. The final and most critical stage of making photographic art is the print, and it takes years of technical skill and experience to make a print to the expectations of the photographer. The artist and his equipment are intrinsically linked and can't be separated, no matter whether you call it art or not. How does one accurately express their vision without command of the tools they're using? That's as true for the art photographer as it is with the painter and his brushes.
I can't imagine how Rothko's colored squares, or Pollock's drip paintings, or Warhol's soup cans ever found a place in the art world, but they certainly did. The most bizarre thing in the world is the money exchanged for NFTs. Well second only to a do-it-yourself banana and duct tape selling for $6,200,000. At least AI imagery has some intrinsic value in a commercial environment. I've long since stopped trying to make sense of art.
There is an entire spectrum of maybe non-AI output from raw to computational, then levels of compute, or whatever we want to call it. So like I much admire the output using the astro mode of the camera on my smartphone and it can do a really nice job at times. (Likewise for astro mode on ILCs.) And the enhanced sensitivity of camera sensors and HDR processing can produce much more prominent auroras than the eye might see. To me I am ok with all that. But to blatantly add auroras where they did not exist is different. Knowing that it is artificial is ok but not indicating that is not ok. You see how subjective all this can be. Each person might have a different opinion of all these types of output. And then to try to define art versus science or mechanical output or whatever, whew.... Deep in the realm of subjectivity. I wonder if we will end up at some societal norms or standards at some point. Maybe not. Who knows. I have the popcorn ready while we try to figure it out.