On Being An Artist in 2025 (And Beyond)
I haven’t been keeping up, and I’m sure a certain amount of it is being hidden from view, but I know a lot of paying “art jobs” are being swallowed up by AI.
The artists themselves — the ones who work with their hands and labor for hours, days, months, and years, soul-searching and locking the pieces into their perfect homes until the art is complete — are now pitching the biggest shit-fits online that I’ve ever seen. Maybe I’m smug, but I find it all amusing. I’m sure I wouldn’t if my livelihood depended on the income I got from my fancy art job. It kind of does. I won’t go into detail, but I can see far enough down the line and — the “writing is on the wall,” as they say. My particular brand of technical artistry won’t last long.
Good riddance.
If a computer can do it the same or better, and the client likes it, who am I to wedge myself in the middle?
I’ve also seen a lot of creatives — and (I’m a jerk) people who think they’re creatives — complaining about people who use AI and call themselves creatives.
Just what exactly is a creative?
I have a story that I think helps provide a little perspective:
About ten years ago, a friend and I went out to a remote village to film some documentary footage about the natives of the area. One thing we were particularly excited about was the local artist — a world-renowned craftsman who carved authentic native art into bones like ivory, antlers, etc. We were so excited to see how this indigenous man performed his task.
Lo and behold, we arrived, and through the plumes of cigarette smoke we saw his workshop — Makita power tools; an old bench grinder, drill, saw. He had an antler cribbage set carved up for me in a matter of fifteen minutes flat.
“I can’t show that,” I told my buddy. He agreed.
We felt like assholes; the native man didn’t see anything wrong with what he was doing. Yet we, the privileged white men, wanted to protect him from the judgment that would surely befall him if we revealed the fact that he did things the obvious and easiest way.
“I mean, it makes sense. Why wouldn’t he use power tools?” my buddy said.
Is it the amount of time one commits to the project that makes it qualify as art?
“Soon AI will be able to make a full movie with whatever actors you want in it in a matter of minutes and you’d definitely watch it,” they say.
It will — I know it will. But you know what? I don’t necessarily watch or absorb art to be wowed by spectacle. I immerse myself in another person’s perspective. Whether they are right or wrong makes no difference to me — I just want to see what they’re passionate about: love, hate, ambivalence, whatever. All of it, however it balances out. Every person has admirable qualities mixed in with lame ones, and that combination and the counterweight it offers against my own is why I engage.
It’s like a high-level conversation with someone who’s being incredibly open with me. Every question I ask gives me a richer experience, even if it’s unresolved. Unless AI becomes sentient, it cannot provide that kind of experience.
It can be used to help an artist reach new heights though — and that’s where I think people are starting to split big-time on the issue. Some people say we can’t use it at all, and those people tend to operate from a place of fear; they fear that humanity will be replaced. Other artists are simply operating on a scale they couldn’t afford to before.
I’ve seen AI videos that are incredible for their concepts. It’s not so much the quality of the images generated that I admire, but the man or woman behind the project who generated them and combined them in a specific way.
I used to watch squiggle vision cartoons on Adult Swim — essentially teleplays set to a few little animatics.
If this new technology creates more Home Movies or Dr. Katz-style shows, the world would be a better place. If you haven’t seen those shows, check them out.
So, contrasting the advanced AI renderings with the crude stick-figure-like drawings of Dr. Katz, we can derive that the content is what’s important. There will be people who just put in silly prompts, post the images that AI generated, and claim to be artists — but they’re no different from the people who copy other material now. And how unfulfilling, spiritually, is that?
They aren’t trying to say anything; they’re just looking for recognition.
Maybe that kind of “artist” will become more prominent with AI, but it already seems to be most of what I see online as it stands, with or without AI.
In closing, I’ll just say that I have a “hands-off” kind of approach to art. I don’t see any reason to meddle. I’m sure filmmakers can be replaced — but will they? If so, I wouldn’t argue. Why would I? It seems like the world and all its people will provide the answer shortly, and we’ll need to live with the consequences.
I’ve always felt, though, that real, resonant art — the kind attuned to something happening in the moment and that needs to be heard — will rise above all the noise and transcend whatever else is happening. It will be very clear, and it won’t matter what form it comes in. It might be a pop-up book; and if it is, it’ll be the best-selling pop-up book of all time.
Any would-be creatives who feel like they shouldn’t do “this or that” because it’s out of fashion — fuck that. Do what you feel. It’ll land, or it won’t. But it’s not up to you, so don’t try to time the market or fight just to fight.
