Last week I posted some images on my Instagram of seasonal folk customs created by my friend, Ben Potton, using AI. I guess I’d anticipated mostly curiosity or amusement, perhaps even a little delight at how detailed they were and how *clever* the robots had become, alongside some gentle pushback about the ethics of AI as it relates to the environment or artists’ livelihoods…something similar to what had happened around Ben’s original Facebook post, which was—while definitely a conversation starter—broadly positively received.
I learned a lot from the comments on my post and will absolutely be following up on many of the links that people shared. For what it’s worth, I wasn’t looking to speak definitively on AI as a force in the world: I’m not clued up enough (although I’m committed to learning). And I’m certainly not saying that I’ll be using AI in my *own* work at any foreseeable time. Hell, I spent the summer hand-sewing 300 leaves for my Garland Queen sculpture—and am currently ensconced in a similar endeavour for next year’s rush cart. It was just one of my semi-regular ‘hot takes’ on all things art and folk: 500 words thrashed out after spotting people referencing me and my work as reasons why Ben *shouldn’t* make work in this way. And I wanted to say, ‘hey, I don’t feel personally threatened by this, here’s why...’
And honestly, I’ve enjoyed and found inspiration in so much that Ben has created over the years I’ve known him: the music that he makes with partner Sel that incorporates AI (even though they are both highly skilled IRL musicians), and the ‘folk songs’ composed via machine learning. I didn’t want to get all prissy suddenly because he was stepping into my domain as a visual artist.
Because I undeniably have skin in this game. My own living is as tied up as anyone’s in creating work which looks, in lots of ways, like the stuff Ben can make using AI. For me, the images were kind of funny because they are a really acute distillation of all the folk-themed art that I see on my feed whenever I fire up the ‘for you’ section. It’s a bit like those new ‘AI overviews’ that show up when I Google something—an executive summary of the now millions of web results that come up for any given search—but instead of a text, this summary is visualised. I felt like it was saying, ‘here’s a picture of where we’re at as a field, right now—what are you gonna do about it?’ Because I don’t know about you, but when I see someone else create something, I generally don’t want to make the exact same thing myself. And as much as the images were nice, they didn’t tell me anything that I didn’t already know, or push me to see things differently—both things I value hugely about human-made art.
So my overall message was intended to be an optimistic one. We’re better than this! AI has gotten VERY good at spotting patterns and replicating existing material, but it can’t and won’t replace human ingenuity, munificence and spark. It can create pictures that look a bit like folklore, but it can’t push the discussion into new territories or negate what it feels like to make something ourselves, or come together to celebrate, mourn and share. Only we can do that.
And while I genuinely appreciate the very real discomfort at the extractive nature of some (‘though not all) AI models—that it plunders what’s out there without gaining consent…that’s definitely a problem and needs regulation, but confession time! So does my brain. I am *constantly* inspired by all of you and the work you do, the way you make your art and articulate your thoughts. I am borrowing and synthesising and remixing ALL THE TIME. I can’t help it. I am the sum of all of the people and things I’ve ever seen and heard and experienced, and so are you. Do I believe in acknowledging my sources wherever I can? Absolutely! I’m an academic by training…I’d create a citation for a Pot Noodle. Is it always possible to track where inspiration comes from, or where your idea stops and mine begins? No. And it happens to me just as much as to anyone else. (When I wrote the ‘Folk is a Feminist Issue’ manifesta four years ago, it felt like screaming into the wind, but now I see LOTS of similar wordage all over the place. Am I always credited? Ha! Does it matter? I don’t know. I think it’s just become another piece in the puzzle that is discourse and shifting public opinion).
The environmental case is a VERY good one, and I hadn’t fully appreciated it before. It’s another strong reason I won’t be using AI myself. But that aside, I can’t help but think that machines have already transformed our world in countless ways and we can feel justifiably sad at some of that which has been lost or obscured and do our bit to foster best practice, and preserve what we feel is most valuable. But few of us would want to back-track on ‘progress’ completely and none of us is net neutral when it comes to the ethics of consumption or tech usage (I’m thinking here about Daisy Hildyard’s great book, ‘Second Body’). And of course, folklore doesn’t get to be ‘specially exempt from stuff happening out there, from technological ‘advancement’ or debate just because it’s folk…if anything, it’s even MORE implicated.
Again, I’m not saying that we have to *embrace* AI art. We can dislike what it produces and try to fight it if we wish. But I also don’t think we necessarily have to be afraid of being *replaced* by it. As artists—as human beings—we need to keep on communicating what it is that WE, and only we, can do best of all. And keep on doing that. That’s all I really wanted to say.
—Lucy Wright, December 2024
ORIGINAL POST
The other day my brilliant friend, Benjamin Potton shared a video of English seasonal folk customs—which he created using AI. (He was kind enough to screenshot a few of my favourite clips to re-post here!). Ben is a games developer by profession—and he’s also a folk musician. In fact, you might know Ben as one half of electro-folk duo, Ben + Sel with Selam Adamu: I use their sounds in SO many of my videos.
The video caused quite a stir on Folk Facebook (where a lot of the folk music and trad morris crowds tend to hang). Lots of people LOVED it, eagerly picking out aspects of IRL traditions (and movie references!) they could identify in the new images. Others were predictably unimpressed, shrinking from the hyper-saturated aesthetics or, more often, concerned about the ethics of AI as it relates to artists’ intellectual property rights.
I don’t know much about AI. I’m simultaneously seduced by some of the incredible graphics it can produce, and afraid of how easily it can be misused by those who seek to mislead. I’m excited by its potential to streamline systems and revolutionise data analysis and exchange, while anxious about what means for those working in industries likely to find themselves obsolete. The visual arts are at the top of most peoples’ lists for the chopping block.
That said, these images by Ben comforted me somewhat. Counterintuitive maybe. And not for the usual reason—that there’s something *wrong* with them… Too many toes or fingers or other unnatural ‘tell’ of artificial intelligence (those kinds of issues will be fixed soon enough, of course). No. As one of the artists actually referenced by commenters to Ben’s post as potentially threatened by their existence, I actually felt slightly heartened to see these AI folk customs so beautifully visualised. Here’s why.
So I don’t want to sound disloyal or snotty or anything, but as artists we’ve simply *got* to do better than the machines. AI is brilliant at combining elements that *already exist* and learning to create what lots of humans find pleasing to look at. So if I want to see a picture of, say, morris dancers wearing space suits dancing with aliens on Mars, or the Wicker Man in the style of Tim Burton, I no longer have to go to the trouble of drawing it out for myself.
But art isn’t about representing stuff as it is or accurately rendering what it might be within the bounds of things we’re already familiar with. It’s not just about making pretty images.
Ultimately, it’s my hope that AI will allow us to stop making art using folklore that merely rests on the aesthetic (so often limited to the weird and the quirky), and instead clear more space for art that pushes the conversation forwards, that *does* something beyond temporary divertissement. Where do we want to go next with this stuff? What's its role? Why are we so preoccupied by invocations of ‘ritual’ and ancestralism, at this specific moment in time? What do we hope to accomplish?
I see this as a timely call to action. As Ben said, ‘AI may be able to come up with novel ideas, but when it comes to making new things to inspire humans it will have to be other humans that do this.’
Creating cool pictures might be *part* of our remit as artists, but art—and folk—are SO much more than that.