Robot Artists
I was hanging out with a friend the other day, The Dolphin (not to be confused with the Dolphin from a previous post), who showed me a short film about a machine that was programmed to create "original" works of art. The programmer, a famous artist that I can't remember the name of, programmed the system by which a computer would make decisions about form and color, and then a machine was created that would accurately reporduce this work using actual paint. The elements of each work were chosen by the computer, but the subject matter available to it was extremely limited: mostly portraits of imaginary girls.
My friend said that what the machine was creating was art. I disagreed, but I didn't really have any strong reasons for it at the time. I think It was just a knee-jerk reaction to the idea that something created by something with no intelligence or consciousness could be considered art. I was not saying that works created using a machine as a tool are not art. The situation depicted in the fim was different than that, in that the programmer had programmed the computer to make it's own "descions", leaving the programmer out of the process of creating each specific work (though the creation of works in general was controlled entirely by the programmer).
The question, to me, seems to be how one defines art: is it defined by the intention of that which created it, by the consciousness of the one who views it, or a combination of both? This same problem occurs in literature, which has it's own genre of computer generated works. I would argue that the intent of the producer to create art is essential to a definition of art. My reason for saying this is because without the artist's intent the definition of "art" becomes meaningless. If one can call something "art" simply because one views it as art, or views it aesthetically, then everything can potentially be called "art", from a real landscape, to panel of drywall, to a pile of garbage (all of which, in my experience, can create a powerful aesthetic experience if the consciousness of the viewer is viewing it with that purpose in mind, and can impart great symbolic meaning if one is looking for it or predisposed to do so, such as a schizophrenic might do). Everything, objects in general, then all have the same level of artistic quality, and thus the term "art" is totally unnecessary and irrelevant. We already have terms to describe something as an object: we call it an object, or a thing. So, without intent of the creator, everything becomes art, and nothing is art any longer.
Knowing that the author purposely was attempting to impart an aesthetic experience, or intended to impart some sort of meaning, or was consciously trying to do whatever it is that he or she thinks art is supposed to do, lets us know that what we are looking at can be described as "art", and thus not the same as objects in general. I can think of a few reasons why one would want to define art separately from objects in general (not all of which I think are important for me personally). First, from a business point of view, one needs to know which things are actually art and which things are just being looked at artistically, in order to place a monetary value on the creation, to know what market to sell it in, and to know who to market it to. Second, if one believes that the purpose of art is to express things in a way that is somehow different than the literal expression of how-to manuals and so forth, then one needs to know which objects actually have an intended meaning associated with them, and which things are inspiring us to insights that originate wholly from the mind and emotions of the viewer. It can be argued that, even when we look at art with an intended meaning, we are still simply reacting to our own impressions, and that our subjectivity always prevents us from actually getting the meaning intended by an artist; however, the subjective reaction one has to art is based on the attempt of the artist to impart some meaning, and even though the communication is, in reality, quite garbled and inaccurate, there is still some level of communication going on, much more so than when one looks at, say, a rock, or someone's keys lying on the ground, after they fell out of someone's pockets. Third, if we view everything as though it were attempting to communicate something, then there's nothing to separate us from schizophrenics; and, contrary to the opinions of many radical-minded psychologists, schizophrenics are crazy, are very disruptive to society, and are furthermore not very happy people, who you would not really like to be.
I think that perhaps we need to distinguish between those objects which were consciously created to communicate an aesthetic idea, and which things we are simply using to provoke an aesthetic response. It is important to distinguish when our reactions are in the context of interacting with society, and when they are purely personal.
And, while I'm at it, I hate it when people say things like "we're all 'one'... there is no 'I', there is no 'you'; we're all 'one'." Obviously that's a crock of shit: If I punch you, I don't feel it. If you feel something, the only way I might feel the same thing is if I interpret your facial expression or body language correctly, and react in kind; and even then I'm simply feeling my subjective interpretation of the emotion that we call by the same name. What the Buddhists actually meant, as far as I know, is that the separation is much less than was once imagined, and that in reality we are closer to being "one" than it may seem. We're not "all one", we're just not all completely separate. Similarly, I hate it when theorists act as though everything is absolutely subjective, and there is not actually any possible sharing of communal experiences: it may be that I'll never really know how other people subjectively interpret reality, but we are all still basing our interpretation on reality using the same terms and such...and there is alot of connection there. People are so unbalanced...
Anyway...I don't know how much of that was just bullshit or what, but it seemed meaningful to me...
My friend said that what the machine was creating was art. I disagreed, but I didn't really have any strong reasons for it at the time. I think It was just a knee-jerk reaction to the idea that something created by something with no intelligence or consciousness could be considered art. I was not saying that works created using a machine as a tool are not art. The situation depicted in the fim was different than that, in that the programmer had programmed the computer to make it's own "descions", leaving the programmer out of the process of creating each specific work (though the creation of works in general was controlled entirely by the programmer).
The question, to me, seems to be how one defines art: is it defined by the intention of that which created it, by the consciousness of the one who views it, or a combination of both? This same problem occurs in literature, which has it's own genre of computer generated works. I would argue that the intent of the producer to create art is essential to a definition of art. My reason for saying this is because without the artist's intent the definition of "art" becomes meaningless. If one can call something "art" simply because one views it as art, or views it aesthetically, then everything can potentially be called "art", from a real landscape, to panel of drywall, to a pile of garbage (all of which, in my experience, can create a powerful aesthetic experience if the consciousness of the viewer is viewing it with that purpose in mind, and can impart great symbolic meaning if one is looking for it or predisposed to do so, such as a schizophrenic might do). Everything, objects in general, then all have the same level of artistic quality, and thus the term "art" is totally unnecessary and irrelevant. We already have terms to describe something as an object: we call it an object, or a thing. So, without intent of the creator, everything becomes art, and nothing is art any longer.
Knowing that the author purposely was attempting to impart an aesthetic experience, or intended to impart some sort of meaning, or was consciously trying to do whatever it is that he or she thinks art is supposed to do, lets us know that what we are looking at can be described as "art", and thus not the same as objects in general. I can think of a few reasons why one would want to define art separately from objects in general (not all of which I think are important for me personally). First, from a business point of view, one needs to know which things are actually art and which things are just being looked at artistically, in order to place a monetary value on the creation, to know what market to sell it in, and to know who to market it to. Second, if one believes that the purpose of art is to express things in a way that is somehow different than the literal expression of how-to manuals and so forth, then one needs to know which objects actually have an intended meaning associated with them, and which things are inspiring us to insights that originate wholly from the mind and emotions of the viewer. It can be argued that, even when we look at art with an intended meaning, we are still simply reacting to our own impressions, and that our subjectivity always prevents us from actually getting the meaning intended by an artist; however, the subjective reaction one has to art is based on the attempt of the artist to impart some meaning, and even though the communication is, in reality, quite garbled and inaccurate, there is still some level of communication going on, much more so than when one looks at, say, a rock, or someone's keys lying on the ground, after they fell out of someone's pockets. Third, if we view everything as though it were attempting to communicate something, then there's nothing to separate us from schizophrenics; and, contrary to the opinions of many radical-minded psychologists, schizophrenics are crazy, are very disruptive to society, and are furthermore not very happy people, who you would not really like to be.
I think that perhaps we need to distinguish between those objects which were consciously created to communicate an aesthetic idea, and which things we are simply using to provoke an aesthetic response. It is important to distinguish when our reactions are in the context of interacting with society, and when they are purely personal.
And, while I'm at it, I hate it when people say things like "we're all 'one'... there is no 'I', there is no 'you'; we're all 'one'." Obviously that's a crock of shit: If I punch you, I don't feel it. If you feel something, the only way I might feel the same thing is if I interpret your facial expression or body language correctly, and react in kind; and even then I'm simply feeling my subjective interpretation of the emotion that we call by the same name. What the Buddhists actually meant, as far as I know, is that the separation is much less than was once imagined, and that in reality we are closer to being "one" than it may seem. We're not "all one", we're just not all completely separate. Similarly, I hate it when theorists act as though everything is absolutely subjective, and there is not actually any possible sharing of communal experiences: it may be that I'll never really know how other people subjectively interpret reality, but we are all still basing our interpretation on reality using the same terms and such...and there is alot of connection there. People are so unbalanced...
Anyway...I don't know how much of that was just bullshit or what, but it seemed meaningful to me...
posted by nearfalse | 11:15 AM
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