Polina Bulgakova is a digital 3D artist who has developed her practice since 2020. Working in the “surrealistic realism” style, Polina crafts visual narratives that challenge the constraints of real-world physics, inviting audiences to think beyond conventional limits and embrace the possibility that anything is achievable. Originally from Siberia and now based in Israel, Polina draws inspiration from the cultural contrasts she has experienced, integrating these influences into her work to create striking visual juxtapositions. Her expertise spans product visualizations, vision boards, and concept art in both static and motion formats.
Following her solo artcast Dreamlandson Niio, Polina Bulgakova elaborates on her practice and background in the following interview.
Polina Bulgakova. Sleep Tight, 2021
You were raised in Siberia but now live in Israel. How have your life experiences and cultural background influenced your work?
It made my work very authentic and honest. I learnt how to embrace my differences and diversity, I learnt that it is ok to not fit fully and that my art can not fit to any defined style or niche. I realized that my art is a reflection of what is going on in my life, a reflection of my reactions to the environment or nostalgia, and the only way to be honest in my work is to actually be honest about who I am.
“My art is a reflection of what is going on in my life, and the only way to be honest in my work is to actually be honest about who I am.”
While having a background in more traditional forms of art making, you have found your medium of expression in 3D rendering and animation. Can you tell us a bit about the path that led to digital creation?
Before moving to Israel, my main medium was oil and a little watercolors, but a good part of my income was selling my oil paintings and oil commissions. Once I moved to Israel in 2017, I didn’t have proper space for that – oil is smelly and dirty, and I had to move to digital 2D. For 2 years I was painting in Photoshop, but it felt like something was missing, it felt like something flat – after you work with oil with bold texture, it was not “it”. In 2019 I moved to work from home due to COVID, and decided to learn something new, which was 3D. I fell in love instantly, and since then it hasn’t changed. I sometimes mix 2D and 2D, but both digital. Now if I take a real brush – it’s only for relaxation or if I want to fill a wall at my home.
Polina Bulgakova. Seated, 2024
You combine your artistic projects with professional 3D rendering and creative services such as product visualization and 3D models. How do your commissioned work and art projects influence each other?
There is a bold connection between those two. Commissions sometimes can be challenging, and sometimes I need to learn new techniques quickly to finish the work on time. But once I explore something new, it’s like a game with new levels – it sparks my curiosity, and I dive deeper into it in my art projects. And sometimes it’s the opposite – I find/learn something new that can be super useful in commissions and use it after I gave it a try in my personal projects.
“This is why I fell in love with 3D so quickly –there are literally no limits.”
An interesting type of commissioned work that you do are Custom Vision Boards, personalized scenes that you render in 3D from a brief that you send to your clients. Can you tell us more about these vision boards and your experience creating them?
I love making Vision Boards, it’s probably my favorite kind of commission. The first one I made for myself a few years ago – I read a lot about that stuff and thought “why don’t I use my favorite tools to make something that will help me reach my goals?”, and I had so much joy and fun making it. Then I started to commission VBs. It’s honestly a pure joy – to get to know a person, their dreams and desires, to see their eyes glowing while they describe their dream life, and then actually visualize it. It’s like a puzzle – I have specific pieces I need to arrange together to get a clear picture, while having certain creative freedom.
Polina Bulgakova. The Safe Romance. Custom Vision Board
Your work is characterized by a photorealistic surrealism that you achieve using 3D animation. What do you find most interesting about the tension between fantasy and reality? In terms of optimizing the work involved and computer processing requirements, do you have some “visual tricks” you can play with?
The most interesting thing about balancing fantasy and reality is that there are no limits and no boundaries at all. I have my patterns, of course, but in terms of the tech side mostly. And this is why I fell in love with 3D so quickly –there are literally no limits. Whatever I have in mind, the craziest ideas I can visualize. Sometimes I mix 2D and 3D, sometimes I animate textures in third party software in order to reduce render time, sometimes I combine those two.
Polina Bulgakova. Witchy Morning, 2022
The artworks we have presented in the artcast “Dreamlands” on Niio not only create imaginary scenes, but also evoke underlying feelings with which we can identify. What inspired you to work with these feelings in dreamlike scenarios, and how do you think they can convey their message to viewers?
“Dreamlands” is probably one of the most honest works of mine. I try to be as authentic as possible in my work, and these kinds of dreamlike scenes are pure reflections of what I was feeling and going through at these times. I hope that every viewer will get the message he or she actually wants to get – be it to reflect on the self, to embrace simple things in daily life, to feel alone but not lonely. My main goal is to encourage people to embrace their authenticity and their differences while looking at my art.
“My work can be viewed as a life graph – you can see what I was going through, and how it influenced me.”
It can be argued that your work is more painterly than cinematic, with peaceful, mediative scenes dominated by a single point of view and a carefully constructed composition. Would you agree with this statement? Do you see digital art as an evolution from the tradition of painting into a new form of creating images meant to be contemplated?
I have works that are dark and moody, works that are chaotic and rhythmic, works that are odd and evoke mixed feelings. It can be viewed as a life graph – depending on the period, you can see what I was going through, and how it influenced my work. The fact that during the last 1-2 years my works are mostly peaceful and calm shows that I’m pretty much in a stable calm period right now.
I don’t think that digital art is an evolution from traditional art. I think it’s a new tool, like a new set of brushes or a new kind of canvas. In the right hands of the right creator, everything can be used to embrace either revolution or traditions, there are artists that combine digital and traditional art tools and create breathtaking pieces.
Polina Bulgakova. Wood Morning, 2021
Your work is now available in several online platforms, including Niio. What opportunities do you see in these platforms, and what features do you find (or would like to find) in them that are most convenient for you as a digital artist?
Everyone knows how to make an income from traditional art – you sell an art piece from your shop or gallery, you get paid, you ship it, and you have a happy client. For digital art, especially animations, it’s different. From one side, we have this huge market on social media and the internet that we use to showcase our works, but from the other side – it’s not as simple to sell it as there’s nothing to pack and ship. Platforms like Niio provide us with an amazing opportunity to monetize digital art through licensing and digital editions, and it’s amazing to know your work is appreciated and displayed in someone’s home, office, building etc. I really like the way it gives me both exposure and profit. It can be argued for ages that “a true artist should only care for making great art”, but the truth is everybody needs to feed their family and pay the bills, even artists.
“Platforms like Niio provide us with an amazing opportunity to monetize digital art through licensing and digital editions, and it’s amazing to know your work is appreciated and displayed in someone’s home, office, or building.”
Tahn (Taeyoung Ahn, born in South Korea, 1967) is a multifaceted media artist, technologist, writer, and art educator with an extensive career that spans multiple disciplines. Currently a Ph.D. candidate in Media Contents, Tahn’s academic journey includes a degree from the Global Media Contents department at Chungnam National University in Korea, as well as studies in psychology, modern dance, and interactive multimedia, the latter pursued in the United States.
In his professional roles, Tahn serves as a concurrent professor in liberal arts and contemporary arts at Seowon University and holds the position of Chairman of the United Art Education Association in Korea. He also contributes as a lecturer in sculpture and art at Chungbuk National University, where he imparts his expertise to the next generation of artists.
Throughout his career, Tahn has exhibited his work in prestigious group and solo exhibitions across cities such as Seoul, Daegu, Rome, Uzès, Lisbon, and New York.
Tahn recently presented on Niio his solo artcast Tales of the Five Peaks, and kindly answered a series of questions about his work and his perspective on the Korean contemporary art scene.
Tahn. Ilwolobongdo_parallel universe, 2024
You have a strong background in painting and sculpture but decided to move into digital media. How did this transition come about? What do you find most interesting about traditional techniques (such as painting and sculpture) on one side, and working with computers on the other?
For me, the distinction between traditional media and digital media is not particularly significant. I see painting, sculpture, digital devices, and other tools simply as instruments that artists of any era can use to convey the stories of their time. As an artist, I believe it is important to utilize every available resource to best express the narrative of the present. This philosophy naturally led me to include digital media in my work, alongside traditional materials such as brushes, paint, and canvas. I consider this fusion a natural evolution of artistic expression. While it might be described as a blend of traditional and digital techniques, to me it is just an inevitable expansion that allows me to fully articulate contemporary stories.
“As an artist, I believe it is important to utilize every available resource to best express the narrative of the present.”
When you started creating digital art, what was the reaction of your peers, collectors and followers? Was it well received? Would you say that, during the last decades, digital art has been well received in the Korean contemporary art scene?
When I introduced digital elements into Korean folk painting, especially in the ‘minhwa’ series, the reactions were extremely polarized. Traditional art groups, some associations, and juries at art contests refused to recognize my work as ‘minhwa’ because I did not adhere to conventional methods. However, I continued my work because I believed that the essence of ‘minhwa’ lies in being art for the people. During the Joseon Dynasty, minhwa was created for the public, and today the public is the digital-native MZ generation. Therefore, I use digital media to connect with them while preserving the essence of minhwa. Today, I am recognized as a leading media artist in the field of minhwa, redefining its place in contemporary art.
Tahn. Ilwolobongdo_today and tommorow, 2023
“When I introduced digital elements into Korean folk painting, especially in the ‘minhwa’ series, the reactions were extremely polarized.”
As a professor and lecturer at Seowon University and Chungbuk National University, you teach to the younger generation of artists and creators. What are their expectations about creating art, and what differences do you see from previous generations in their understanding of the history of art and the career paths that they want to follow?
One notable difference is that the younger generation is more open to exploring various ways of interpreting their time. To guide them, I emphasize the importance of studying the historical context and understanding how previous generations expressed their issues through art. For instance, by examining classical works, particularly traditional paintings, students can reflect on how past artists conveyed their era and what they can learn from them.
Through this process, I encourage students to create narratives that connect traditional techniques with modern tools like AI. My goal is to help them produce art that addresses contemporary issues while also drawing from cultural heritage, thereby creating something meaningful for today’s audience.
“My goal is to help students produce art that addresses contemporary issues while also drawing from cultural heritage.”
The contrast between the built environment (cities, buildings) and nature is a recurring theme in your work. What do you find most interesting about exploring this subject?
In Korea, we have a long history of garden culture (Jeongwon). Historically, scholars would leave the city and build small dwellings in nature, creating gardens where they could reflect on life, engage in philosophical thought, and formulate political ideas. Those who couldn’t leave the city would bring nature into their urban homes by creating small ponds and gardens in their courtyards. If even that wasn’t possible, they would hang landscape paintings in their rooms to simulate the presence of nature. This desire for nature amidst urban life led me to explore how human beings, even while residing in cities, inherently seek out nature. My interest in this topic began with traditional Korean painting and has expanded globally through my experiences in South Korea and the UK.
Tahn’s work is often displayed in multichannel installations and large media facades.
“The desire for nature amidst urban life led me to explore how human beings, even while residing in cities, inherently seek out nature.”
Fantastic, surreal, and sci-fi elements are also commonly present in your work. Can you elaborate on your choice of these references? Would you say that the use of 3D software has inspired you to incorporate these elements into your work?
Korean folk painting (‘minhwa’), folklore, and shamanistic beliefs have always contained fantastic and surreal elements—not as mere illusions but as symbols that help sustain the reality of people’s lives. These elements serve as hope, faith, and guiding principles for many individuals. To me, these objects are not simply products of imagination but are deeply rooted in real stories. The recent advancements in generative AI software, along with 3D software like Blender and Cinema 4D, have made it easier to translate these elements into tangible, hyper-realistic forms, thereby amplifying their impact on the viewer.
Tahn. Sustainable Today’s Story, Palace of Imagination no1, 2021
Although your digital artworks may seem to depict an imaginary world, they address real issues of our world, such as environmental degradation, and notably, also express feelings of hope and perseverance. Do you think that it is precisely by depicting imaginary scenes that one can invite the viewer to consider their own reality?
Absolutely. Every individual carries their own universe within them. By presenting an imaginative world beyond the viewer’s everyday reality, I invite them to explore the infinite dimensions of their inner selves. This creates a space where they can engage with emotions or thoughts that they might not have considered in their conventional reality. The imaginary worlds I create serve as mirrors—reflecting possibilities that encourage viewers to rethink their own perspectives and transcend the limitations of their current existence.
“Every individual carries their own universe within them. By presenting an imaginative world beyond the viewer’s everyday reality, I invite them to explore the infinite dimensions of their inner selves.”
Most of the artworks we currently present on Niio are related to the Ilwolobongdo, the painted folding screen that was always displayed behind the King’s throne in the Joseon Dynasty, depicting the Sun, the Moon, and the Five Peaks. Can you tell us about the significance of this particular object in Korean culture and art?
The Ilwolobongdo, the folding screen that symbolized the presence of the king during the Joseon Dynasty, represents authority and power. What intrigued me was the idea that the Ilwolobongdo was only complete when the king stood in front of it, suggesting that the individual and the environment together create a unified meaning. In today’s society, I believe that every individual is their own ‘king,’ a sovereign over their life and choices. By incorporating the Ilwolobongdo into my work, I hope to empower viewers, encouraging them to recognize their agency and the importance of their presence. Additionally, I include contemporary symbols and objects that represent today’s era, creating new narratives that link traditional motifs with the present and future.
Tahn. Sustainable environment, deer and whales, 2022
In some of your works we can see written text in Korean. Can you explain to us what these texts mean, and what is their role in your compositions?
The Korean text that appears in my works is often drawn from classical Korean poetry or my own poetic compositions. These texts add layers of meaning to the visual narrative, much like traditional Korean paintings that combine imagery and poetry—an essential skill for scholars during the Joseon era. By including these texts, I aim to create a dialogue between the visual and the poetic, merging artistic expressions that convey both aesthetic beauty and intellectual depth.
You also refer to Western culture in some artworks that depict objects such as an Evian water bottle, a Rolex watch, or an Apple computer, and you also place famous brand names such as Prada, Fendi, or Netflix on other objects. What is the purpose of including these brands and objects in your artworks?
I do not see these elements as uniquely ‘Western.’ Instead, they reflect the consumer tendencies around me, representing desires and aspirations within contemporary society. For instance, my series inspired by ‘chaekgado’ (a genre of Korean painting featuring bookshelves) originally had educational undertones in the Joseon era but gradually evolved to include luxury items, symbolizing changing values and desires. By incorporating these recognizable brands, I am commenting on the transformation of human values over time, as well as the transient nature of material possessions.
Tahn. Sustainable Today’s Story, Palace of Imagination no2, 2021
In some of your works, your name also becomes a brand, in a twist of the artist’s signature. Why did you choose to do so?
In traditional Korean art, the use of a seal (or ‘nakgan’) as an artist’s mark was a fundamental aspect of a painting. For me, incorporating my name as a brand is an extension of that tradition, reinterpreted in a modern context. Whether it’s through a literal signature, an avatar, or a unique object representing me, these inclusions are my way of putting a personal stamp on my work—merging historical artistic conventions with a contemporary twist.
You are currently using AI models to generate some of the elements in your work. Unlike other artists, who rely on machine learning for the creation of the whole work, you use the outputs of this process as an element that is seamlessly integrated into your 3D animations. Can you tell us more about your approach to using artificial intelligence in the creation of your artworks? How do you conceive a balance between “manual” creation by the human artist and algorithmic creativity?
As I explore the potential of generative AI, I often find myself reflecting on the evolving role of the artist in an age dominated by new technologies. AI is a powerful tool that aids in research, inspires new ideas, and adds complexity to certain aspects of my work. However, I am also cautious about the potential for AI to overshadow the artist’s unique voice. While I use AI-generated elements to enhance or complement my compositions, I ensure that the creative vision and narrative remain distinctly my own. AI, to me, is a resource—a collaborator, but not the creator. It is the artist’s hand that ultimately guides, curates, and gives soul to the work, distinguishing art from mere aesthetically pleasing products.
“AI, to me, is a resource—a collaborator, but not the creator. It is the artist’s hand that ultimately guides, curates, and gives soul to the work.”
Catastrophic consequences of the floods in Valencia. Photo: AP
On October 29, 2024, Valencia experienced catastrophic flooding due to an isolated high-altitude low-pressure system (known in Spanish as Depresión Aislada en Niveles Altos, or DANA) . This weather phenomenon brought torrential rains, with some areas receiving over 300 millimeters (approximately 12 inches) of rainfall in a single day—equivalent to the region’s average annual precipitation. The deluge resulted in severe flash floods, leading to a death toll of at least 217 individuals (as of November 5th) and extensive property damage.
The floods in Spain are yet another reminder of the life threatening consequences of climate change, precisely because the disaster has not solely been caused by rising temperature of the Mediterranean Sea, but due to a series of factors that include irresponsible urban planning, real estate speculation, and a lack of awareness about the serious effects of an adverse climate.
In a press release launched the day after the flooding, the environmental activist group Greenpeace asked “who will pay for this?,” pointing out the responsibility of fossil fuel companies in creating the environmental conditions that now lead to such a catastrophe. Describing the effects of the DANA as a “natural disaster” diverts attention from the fact that its causes can be found not in nature, but in human activity and economic profit.
“In 2023 a new study was released indicating that the world’s top fossil fuel companies owe at least $209bn a year in climate reparations to compensate communities suffering the most harm from climate change.”
Paolo Cirio. Climate Tribunal, p.71
Addressing this economic profit, artist and activist Paolo Cirio aims to shift public perception by holding the fossil fuel industry accountable for its role in the climate crisis in an ongoing body of works titled Climate Tribunal. Cirio combines art, scientific research, and advocacy to bring forth a new cultural understanding of climate change and its ethical implications in a call for legal and moral accountability for the environmental destruction caused by fossil fuel companies. The Tribunal seeks to prosecute these corporations for what the artist refers to as “climate crimes”—the deliberate misinformation and public manipulation that has fueled decades of environmental degradation. Using historical, scientific, and political evidence, the Climate Tribunal positions itself as a platform for public discourse and action.
Cirio recently published the book Climate Tribunal. Fossil Fuels Industry On Trial, which collects a series of texts by the artists and documentation of his artistic projects. The volume, which is available as a downloadable PDF, addresses how fossil fuel corporations have strategically influenced public opinion, politics, and cultural institutions, shielding their culpability through misinformation campaigns. Cirio highlights that despite numerous lawsuits, the true scale of these climate crimes has yet to be acknowledged, with most cases focusing on financial compensation rather than addressing the deeper injustices against humanity and nature. The Climate Tribunal suggests a shift in perspective, urging global citizens to focus on those truly responsible, rather than blaming individuals for global warming.
Through artistic, legal, and ethical lenses, Cirio’s The Climate Tribunal not only presents a case against the fossil fuel industry but also challenges the art world and society at large to recognize their role in climate justice. It is a bold proposition to rethink how we engage with climate change, urging us to move beyond the abstract and into tangible action, holding corporations and systems accountable for their environmental impact.
“It was the idea of the ‘Carbon Footprint’ by British Petroleum (BP) that moralized personal ethics of climate change.”
Paolo Cirio. Climate Tribunal, p.24
Climate Aesthetics
While it can be said that in this project Cirio bridges the gap between activism and artistic expression, his book also addresses the representation of climate change in the arts. This is not simply a question of aesthetics, but also a form of activism, since art can inspire new ideas, respond to people’s emotions, and question widespread assumptions in visually attractive and engaging ways. The “white cube” space of museums and art galleries creates a specific environment to which visitors go to pay attention to what the artists have to say, and this is a powerful context for the artworks to communicate ideas and catalyze emotions about climate change and the future of our planet.
According to Cirio, the representation of climate change in the visual arts is often “diluted within the broader discourse on the Anthropocene, remain purely scientific, merely depict nature, or just adopt defeatist attitudes.” He also points out that these vague or unrealistic messages can be part of what is often termed “green-washing” or “artwashing,” referring to the patronage of cultural events and institutions by fossil fuel companies to present a positive and relatable image to society.
“Art can play a key role in fostering the ability to see, feel, and comprehend the scale of climate change. Particular uses of semiotics and linguistics in Climate Aesthetics can make the perception and cognition of climate change accessible through emotive, compelling, and appealing works of art.”
Paolo Cirio. Climate Tribunal, p.205
The artist therefore raises the question of the ethics of art that represents climate change, asking whether by, for instance, when creating a fictional scenario, scientific facts may be altered or disguised, contributing to an increased confusion as to the effects of global warming. He also points out that “representing climate change with only data and information or with just weather events and climate anomalies might be reductive and limit signification without integrating struggles for climate justice, social inequality, and human rights.” His main point is that addressing the damaging effects of our exploitative relationship with nature should encompass all of its aspects, not just the longing for an idyllic, peaceful nature, or the catastrophic events that are happening with increasing frequency around the world, but also the causes and the role of those who contribute to climate change and even hinder any efforts to prevent it.
Paolo Cirio. Climate Class Action flag, 2023
“Climate change in the cultural world is still rarely addressed as it’s a sort of inconvenient subject,” stresses Cirio. Aspects such as the “footprint” of producing artworks, shipping them to art fairs and exhibitions, or motivating individuals to travel to distant places to see art, as well as the previously mentioned sponsorship of fossil fuel companies, are part of what the art world feels guilty of in terms of their commitment to higher ethical values, the preservation of our natural environment being one of them.
At this point, Paolo Cirio suggests a series of tactics and strategies that can be applied (and are actually applied by some artists) in the context of climate aesthetics (p.213-214):
Some tactics of Climate Aesthetics
Raising Awareness Art to inform and galvanize the audience and the general public.
Social Commentary Art to examine political themes and document social, economic, and ecological conditions.
Social Innovation Art to provide social solutions and adaptation to disasters.
Monumentalization Art to remember what is lost with memorials, archives, and ceremonies.
Mourning Art for emotional support and healing through care and empathy.
Activism Art for campaigns and protests to bring change and justice.
Some strategies of Climate Aesthetics
Documentary Art including documentation of causes and effects in order to inform and keep records of events and experiences which can be used in activist, journalistic, and juridical contexts.
Storytelling Art including fiction of speculative scenarios, or that integrates the causes and effects of climate change, or is based on personal and biographical experiences.
Visual Art Art including figuration and abstraction of visual representation which can either be documentary or fiction. Any subject or issue regarding climate change can be portrayed through drawing, painting, sculpture, photography, video, imagery, data, or text.
Social Practices Art including support to vulnerable communities and individuals through social engagement, activism, or emergency response.
Conceptualism Art including economic and governance analysis, institution critique, or legal imagination, which overlays concepts, research, practices, and processes.
Since 2021, the artist has put these ideas into practice in a large series of artworks that combine online activism, data collection, prints, paintings, and installations and that have been exhibited in contemporary art foundations, science museums, cultural institutions and universities internationally.
Certain artworks, such as Climate Class Action(2023) or Extinction Claims(2021), are online platforms that invite visitors to claim financial compensation from major fossil fuel firms for the ways in which climate change has affected their lives, and also to present those claims on behalf of endangered species. Others, such as Flooding NYC Claims (2023), focus on a specific event and location (in this case, the disastrous floods in New York in 2023), raising awareness about the responsibility of fossil fuel companies and providing citizens with the tools and information necessary to claim financial compensation. Regardless of the fact that these claims could actually lead to legal proceedings forcing the largest polluting companies to pay large amounts of money to individuals, communities, and governments, they highlight the economic impact and motivations underlying climate change, raising awareness about the huge benefits that fossil fuel companies are making and possibly motivating legal actions or at least a change of mentality.
Paolo Cirio. Footprint Justice, 2023
An important element of Cirio’s projects are the many prints, posters, and graphic materials that contribute to disseminating the messages among the population in a way that is easily accessible and that puts the message outside the context of the “white cube,” where it will be seen by an audience that is attentive, but also more interested in concepts and aesthetics and less in actual political or social action. Addressing climate change, the artist smartly focuses on the economic aspects and how people’s lives could improve if fossil fuel companies took responsibility for the effects of their activities on our environment and the way they have contributed to hinder our understanding of this issue.Footprint Justice(2023), for instance, focuses on the cost of public transportation (which is particularly felt by young people) and proposes a “utopian social movement” suggesting that everyone should have access to public transportation for free while receiving payments for maintaining low carbon footprints. Again, the implementation of this idea is hard to achieve, but the aim is actually to change people’s mindsets and consider why their efforts at being environmentally friendly are not matched by the big companies, which have the resources to make a much greater impact.
Paolo Cirio. Exhibition Natural Sovereignty. Certosa Museum, Capri, 2021.
It seems like a bold statement to affirm that fossil fuel companies should compensate individuals, and even animals, for the effects of “natural disasters.” It also seems to go against the basis of capitalism that a profitable activity, supposedly contributing to the prosperity of communities and regions by generating employment and wealth, should be put on trial because of its effects on something as abstract as “nature.” Aren’t we living in the Anthropocene? Isn’t this our time to rule the Earth? Certainly, many might feel skeptical about the ideas that Paolo Cirio puts forward in these projects, and even the data he aptly shares for anyone interested in digging deeper. It might seem inconceivable to question the ethics or confront the power of these companies, let alone to imagine a society that does not depend on fossil fuels. But to address the inconceivable has often been the task of artists, sometimes under the guise of irony, speculation, or simply fiction. The Climate Tribunal artworks confront us with an issue that is both hard to understand and to assimilate. It is our choice to take action or look away.
Jaime de los Rios(Donostia/San Sebastian, 1982) is a visual artist and programmer, founder of the open laboratory of art and science ARTEK[Lab] (2007). An expert in free software and hardware, he has developed over the last decades a body of work that blends contemporary art, science and technology, creating immersive environments and generative works, often in collaboration with other artists, scientists and engineers.
On the occasion of his solo exhibition “El problema de la forma” at Arteko Gallery, we present in Niio a selection of his recent digital works and conduct this interview in which we delve into the career, work processes and inspiration of the Spanish artist.
Explore a selection of artworks by Jaime de los Rios in On The Problem of Form
As a visual artist and programmer, you unite the two essential aspects of digital creation. What led you to develop your career in this field? Which aspect tends to prevail, the one that seeks a particular aesthetic expression, or the one that seeks to experiment with new technologies?
I consider that creation is intimately linked to the paradigm that the artist inhabits. In my case, different contemporary aspects intersect that have led me to use new technologies, as well as the aesthetics of these technological times. I did my studies in electronic engineering and I was educated to successfully manage the technical capabilities of my time. However, in the process of learning, certain desires and results have come in the way. These were not initially desired, but they responded to a philosophy or a concern. I remember well when I had to program an automaton that controlled a traffic light and I forced it to make a certain error that made the three lights blink in a randomized cycle. This reminded me of the famous movie “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” (Steven Spielberg, 1977) and how it used the language of sound and color, with the notes Sol re Sol. There I realized that to control the technology of the moment was also to be able to use the best tools in a critical and aesthetic way and that in such a technologized society artists have an important role to reconfigure or offer a political view of the situation.
I work mainly with algorithms. I don’t always do it from a programming language but the logic is the same. I compose simple systems that are governed by different equations: these combinations make the system complex, quantum we could say. In its infinity I cannot know how the system will behave at a given moment but I can frame its behavior. It is like sculpting infinity. When handling these systems, I navigate among the mathematics themselves and it is these that make the possibilities emerge that perhaps would never have been in my head if I had thought about it from the beginning, so aesthetics and technology are absolutely linked to each other.
In your work there are influences of geometric abstraction and the work of pioneers such as Manfred Mohr. What references have marked the visual vocabulary of your works?
Of course, Manfred Mohr, Vera Molnar, Frieder Nake…. And also the whole ecosystem of the Computing Center of Madrid, including artists such as José Luis Alexanco or Elena Asins. At the moment when these artists became acquainted with computation through the computer there is a moment of singularity that is very inspiring for me and can be appreciated in my last exhibition. The precarious resources, such as simple geometries, and yet the great capacity for resolution are undoubtedly a great metaphor for the work of these artists in their time. It is the first painting made using a computer, but it has immense poetics.
I have arrived in my work to these artists that I already knew but I have done it at a later time, after exploring the history of painting itself and activating algorithms in a pictorial way. In recent years I have wanted the work to speak of its own support and its own algorithms in a transparent way and that is why the elements I use are precisely reminiscent of that synthetic painting.
Jaime de los Ríos. FlyTheProblem, 2024
A main aspect of your work lies in the use of generative algorithms to create constantly morphing compositions, with each work being what Frieder Nake once defined as “the description of an infinite set of drawings.” What attracts you to the possibilities of generative art? What is it like to conceive of a work that does not consist of a finished visual composition, but rather a set of instructions and behaviors?
It is undoubtedly one of the great differences with respect to plastic art. Algorithms allow us to think and develop artworks that change endlessly. We work with movement, fundamentally, let’s say that so far we have a new characteristic which is rhythm and we leave behind, as if it were a curse, the texture and smell of painting.
Here there are also two types of digital artists, those who direct their creation to something they have previously thought of and others like me who navigate mathematics and in the dialogue with the algorithm itself we let emergencies flow, but then both types of artists need to conceive the work as a system, a framework of possibilities. The work is never solved but it is enclosed in a space of freedom.
The most exciting thing about this technique, I would say, is to reach the infinite in a poetic way that enables contemplation. To do this, and knowing that it is a post-editing technique, that is, it does not begin or end, we only have to look at nature, the largest infinite system that can be known. From there it is trapped into mathematics and transferred to aesthetic systems. Some artists do it in a very direct and figurative way, others use a system of color and a rhythm that we can perceive as human beings, everyday phenomena such as the reflection of the light in the sea, the shoals of fish or the choreography of birds.
“The work is never solved, but locked in a space of freedom.”
In addition to pictorial references, in your work you have explored the relationships between digital art and film, using Gene Youngblood’s concept of “expanded cinema”, and also with the electroacoustic music of Iannis Xenakis, as well as jazz. What do these connections with film and music bring to digital art, and especially to your work?
My work is an incessant search for pictorial, tactile, and sound systems. However, I rarely generate my own sound, so I use the mathematics of music to apply it to the artworks. Many of us electronic art artists work transcoding data, that is, a work can be silent and at the same time have a lot of musicality as is the case of my work on Iannis Xenakis, where I use his famous equation, the curve, which he applied on the one hand in architecture but also in sound composition, to move a series of kinetic artifacts that are like windmills. By activating a movement directly proportional to this curve and also generating a very powerful rotational sound, the whole immersive work, which is also projected, forms a universe that evokes the work of Xenakis. It is almost a scientific experiment: what would have happened if we human beings did not have the sensors to hear, and had to translate those frequencies in the form of color, for instance.
Jaime de los Ríos. pixelsunshine, 2024
Telepresence is a concept you have worked with in several projects, which have notably incorporated a complex interaction between devices, people, and spaces. What attracts you to the possibility of creating these remote connections? Based on your experience with these projects, how do you see the ubiquity of digital art through platforms like Niio, which make it easy to integrate artworks on any screen?
The telepresence I worked with is situated in time between the utopia of net art, the rhizomatic connection, and the quantum era of entanglement. It is one of those concepts that are human aspirations and that Roy Ascott and Eduardo Kac, of course, talked about and developed a lot. In the days of the Intact collective we did teleshared actions between many places around the world. The most interesting thing is that they were not based on video as in our new tools, but given the precariousness of the Internet connection what we sent was mostly mathematics. So I became an interactive beacon of light to the music coming from the SAT in Montreal thanks to the data flowing through the fiber optic cables.
Niio is a revolution for digital art, it takes advantage of the nature of the medium and takes art out of the black box. One of the big problems of art today is that it has not changed at the pace of society, today we must be accessible and in the pockets of the user, the art lover and not exclusively in centers or institutions and galleries, which of course provide a great value to the work but limit access. Likewise, one of the characteristics that most interests me about Niio is to be able to enjoy the works in privacy, at a contemplative pace and in a space of one’s own without the pressure of contemporary daily life. Enjoying the work during different times throughout a day, a week or as long as you wish, that is the way in which art becomes great and we truly understand it.
“One of the features that interests me most about Niio is being able to enjoy the works in privacy, at a contemplative pace and in a space of one’s own without the pressure of contemporary daily life.”
Your works have occupied the facades of large buildings such as the Etopía center in Zaragoza or the Kursaal in Donostia. What are the challenges of creating a work for the public space and in large dimensions? How would you say they contribute to raising awareness and appreciation of digital art?
Besides the technical complications, because each digital facade has its own nature, what I am most interested in is to dialogue with the space, to reduce the gap between art that people feel safe with and is part of their history and digital art. Of course this is not the same everywhere. For example, in the city of Zaragoza, which is closely linked to classical art, I created a work called Goya Disassembled. It was the first work made for the facade of the art and technology center Etopia and the result of an artistic residency in this cultural institution. It was an infinite work in which the artist’s entire color palette was displayed, based on all his paintings and drawings. In most of the cities of the world this work would be a rhythm of colors, however in the Aragonese city it spoke of its history and the people who saw it knew perfectly well that these are the colors that in one way or another inhabit the city: dark, strong colors, just like the paintings that they know and love so much of Francisco de Goya.
Jamie de los Ríos. Crimson Waves, 2021. Kursaal, Donostia/San Sebastián. Photo: Sara Santos
Much of your work is characterized by collaborations with other artists or collectives. What have these collaborations contributed to your work? How does the creative process differ when you work on a piece individually from when you work as part of a team?
My artistic work has always been linked to collaboration, and I think that in general all artists working with new technologies are constantly busy! In my case I think that for better or worse I have developed a more personal line and when I have the opportunity to work with other artists in the creation, being a very hard and difficult process, it allows me to get out of my more personal line and activate other issues. If I look back, I’d say that when I work in a collective I am much more political and semantic, while when I work on my own I’m more romantic and liberated.
In any case there are different types of collaborations. When you work with different disciplines, for example in my case I have worked with musicians, we allow ourselves to be ourselves and reach something common. When you work with other digital or plastic artists you have to create a whole new space, that’s why many times you start from discussions and it’s more complicated to speak from the heart.
“When I work with a collective I’m more political and semantic whereas when I work on my own I am somewhat more romantic and liberated.”
You have a long experience in the design and technical coordination of digital art exhibitions and events in Spain, such as the Art Futura festival or the exhibition “Sueños de Silicio,” among many others. From this perspective, how have you seen the presentation and reception of digital art in Spain evolve? What successes and missed opportunities would you point out, globally?
This is a complicated question and at the same time essential to understand the contemporaneity of electronic art. I will begin by talking about the artists themselves and how they have been affected by the way of exhibiting this type of art, which is often related to spectacle and the possibilities of the future of art. Electronic, digital and new media art has been closely linked to the exhibition of new technologies and this has generated a precarious business model for artists who, by collaborating with more people, generate grandiloquent and very expensive works. The spectacularization of the medium has not served to professionalize the artists but rather the other way around, we have festivals in which we seek to be impressed by the use of new technology, and this has caused us to generate a niche, a place apart from contemporary art.
This is not bad per se, but we must enable new paths, encourage professionalization and the labor of art, with works in a smaller scale but also more linked to a personal production. This may sound a bit classical but I had the opportunity to work with the Ars Electronica archive some time ago for the curatorship of a small exhibition in Bilbao. The vast majority of artists who participated in this festival throughout its history do not create art anymore. Perhaps it is still a very young art.
Finally, I would like to add that I work at the New Art Collection and I study the work of artists in the technological field. In recent years there has been a great step forward in the field of collecting, with serious proposals from the creators that will allow new generations to enjoy this art.
Jaime de los Ríos. Scintillant, 2019. Collaboration with IED Kunsthal Bilbao and Susana Zaldívar.
Over the last two decades you have been active in the training aspect of digital art, running workshops and being part of teams in medialabs, notably as founder of ARTEK [Lab] at Arteleku. Can you give me an overview of the genesis and development of the maker and open source communities in Spain? How have the collaborative and training spaces in which you have participated influenced the development of a digital art scene in Spain? How has the reception of digital art that you mentioned in the previous question affected these spaces?
I have great memories of the first digital artists I met in Spain. They were linked to centers like medialab Prado. They were collectives like Lumo, which lived in a space of open creation, where they worked in the technological field from a political position of open source but also aesthetics. Not to beat around the bush, I will say that all this changed with the arrival of the maker movement. Being interesting and positive in the first instance, this movement took the political facet (open source, collaboration, etc.) and turned it into its emblem but left behind the aesthetic and even critical field. It linked creation to a certain machinery and it can be said that it made us almost slaves of those machines.
I lost many people along the way who, from being free researchers, turned exclusively to machines and the machinery of the market. I would say that here there is a first stage which is the hackmeeting, hacktivism as epicenter and hybridization of new ways of thinking in terms of technopolitical, cosmovisionary feminism, and then maker culture, a reductionism with neoliberal tendencies, oriented to generate a third industrial revolution linked to new economies.
“We have festivals where we seek to impress ourselves by the use of new technology, and this has caused us to generate a niche, a place apart from contemporary art.”
You are currently working as advisor and technical coordinator of the New Art Foundation, the largest collection of digital art in Spain. What challenges does the preservation of digital art pose, and how do you see the future of this type of artistic creation in terms of its permanence in institutional collections and the knowledge of its history?
Indeed, I am the technical director of the collection and I am passionate about it. We work with more than one hundred and fifty works, 95% of which belong to living artists. From the first thoughts on cybernetics in the video art of Peter Weibel to the generative art of Alba Corral. All the works are of a different nature and this implies a maximum challenge, a knowledge of thousands of sub technologies, different operating systems and different interfaces. It is still a path that is being generated thanks also to the support of all the artists, but it is certainly a collective challenge that we face and we want our works to survive in the future.
If I have to give some advice, in order for our works to be enjoyed in the future, I would comment that it is important that we work with tools that we know very well, that we make them our own and little by little we feel that we control those supports absolutely. Our lines of code are our paint strokes and the screens, our canvases, appropriating their colors and their movements. This may sound a bit unpopular, but the field of collecting requires a certain security when it comes to a work working or being restored. We are also developing protocols for the collection that make it possible to arrange the craziest works, of course!
Jaime de los Ríos. Vortex, 2024
In “The problem of form”, your current exhibition at Arteko Gallery, from which we present a selection of digital pieces in Niio, you recover the connection between painting and algorithmic creation that underlies much of your work. The exhibition combines digital works with pieces on paper and digital printing on aluminum. At the current moment of maturity in your career, how do you conceive the role of digital art in relation to other forms of contemporary artistic creation? How has the exhibition been received in the context of a contemporary art gallery?
I’m really excited about exhibiting at Niio, the exhibition has expanded in an unimaginable way. Now it travels through the networks and sneaks into screens all over the world. It is a very personal work that above all I have been able to exhibit in my homeland. After several exhibitions in the Arteko gallery, I can say, and this seems to me very important, that people have made my art their own.
In times of globalization and the tentacular capacity of the Internet, it is common to think that the number of “likes” is more important than the number of people around you. This is why the exhibition has been very successful, even in terms of sales! And nowadays I would say that digital art is already part of contemporary art. Both art lovers and people who are more distant from the medium are already more familiar with this movement that speaks of issues they are aware of, and uses the same tools they use in their daily lives.
“For our works to be enjoyed in the future, it is important that our lines of code are our paint strokes and the screens our canvases.”
Musician and digital artist Franz Rosatirecently presented on Niio a series of three videos titled DATALAKE: GROUNDTRUTH(2024) in which he worked with AI models to generate mesmerizingly fluid landscapes that evoke chaos and disaster, but also regeneration and impermanence. Widely recognized on the international digital art and electronic music scene, Rosati creates a unique combination of visual landscapes, soundscapes, and cinematic narratives that embody the ideal of the total work of art (Gesamtkunstwerk) for a fully immersed audience.
In a previous interview for Niio Editorial, on the occasion of the launch of Rosati’s series LATENTSCAPE(2021), the artist offered us a general approach to his work. In this article, we focus on his most recent series, diving into his use of machine learning programs, his reflections about our current visual culture, and the elusive concept of truth.
Franz Rosati. DATALAKE:GROUNDTRUTH N1, 2024
This series brings to mind our fascination with disasters, which has been enhanced by digital technologies allowing the creation of ever more spectacular images of cataclysms in films and TV shows, and the growing tendency in mainstream media to feed us with disturbing images in the midst of the raging attention economy. Would it be correct to interpret the artworks as a commentary on our current media landscape?
I don’t know if I want to see the work as a commentary on the media landscape, this is not the very first target of the project.
For sure the theme of disaster, the cataclysm, and the overwhelming flux of visual information, has extended not only to the natural and ecological context, but also to the perception of a cognitive vortex. So the disaster as something disruptive, unexpected and out of control, is exactly what emerged during the production and the selection of the final materials.
I do not start any of my projects with a specific political or critical theme, it’s a pretty more subconscious process, I just start doing things and stop when something resonates with some parts of me, then I try to figure out why it resonates with me so much. This is why I’m very interested in understanding how my work might adhere to a vision of reality.
I think every artwork is political in some ways but I also think that every artwork must speak for itself, it’s not about releasing a statement through images and sounds, but instead leaving it there and observing how it resonates with the surrounding environment.
In this case, after months of generating materials and testing sounds, I decided that I wanted to catch the vibe of a visual multiverse inflated by images, that through an inescapable hyper-aesthetization process, disastrously decorate and beautify its own impermanent deflagration and collapse.
“After months of generating materials and testing sounds, I decided that I wanted to catch the vibe of a visual multiverse inflated by images that disastrously decorate and beautify its own impermanent deflagration and collapse.”
The use of split screens in some scenes reinforces the connection with newsreels and mass media. What do they bring to this project, in terms of visual composition and subtext?
The splitscreen aesthetics idea came out in an advanced phase of the work and was absolutely the most difficult part to do from a technical aspect.
I didn’t want to do it by using masks to tell AI where to put different things, which is a pretty common and straightforward approach. Instead I wanted to let AI interpret several words in the prompt, going back and forth to see how a comma or the weight of a specific word can alter the results and recall some features in the model. This was a pretty long process.
The screen is a very iconic and persistent element of our visual culture since Nam June Paik (and before him Guy Debord, Isidore Isou or Abel Gance) which was probably the first in visual arts to understand how powerful could it be, but today we have incredible artists such as Baron Lanteigne who is able deal with a simulacra of the screen in extremely powerful, subtle and unexpected ways, as in the content so in the setup of his works.
The splitscreen in this series is my “tribute” to the device, in its embodiment as a magic portal, a simulacra, a magic surface opening up to other worlds. A multidimensional device shaping our reality more and more, first in our homes, then covering walls and buildings of our cities, then fitting in our hands and pockets to slowly landing in the art galleries and exhibitions.
In my case I wanted multiple screens representations to be a strong part of the artwork: The television layout which is the one telling what’s happening in our world shaping our perception of reality as well as the LED wall or the stage design which is instead the most diffused example of mass worship during concerts and large events.
“The splitscreen in this series is my «tribute» to the device, in its embodiment as a magic portal, a simulacra, a magic surface opening up to other worlds.”
I want these elements to be almost like a living organism that is symbiotic with the natural elements, absorbs nature and is absorbed by nature. Virtuality and biology melted together.
So it is not just a way to visualize different contents and context. It is more about the splitscreen, the “news layout”, the LED wall, as a part of a new and complex hybrid ecosystem.
Franz Rosati. Still from the series DATALAKE: GROUNDTRUTH, 2024
An interesting detail in these scenes of chaos and destruction is the presence of cars. Artist Iñigo Bilbao once stated: “Confronted with images of a disaster, in order for them to cause us a real (and perhaps pleasant) impact, we need to identify something among the chaos, a reference that informs us of the scale of the tragedy […] Apart from the most macabre evidence, cars offer an easily recognizable shape, allowing us to glimpse the seriousness of the accident, the power of the bomb or the height of the floods.” Is the presence of cars in these artworks connected to this sense of scale mentioned by Bilbao? Or maybe it is something embedded in the imagery of disasters that AI models replicate?
Cars and humans have a very accidental yet central role in this work, retrospectively. That wasn’t planned at all, my idea at the beginning was only focused on depicting this process of nature, architecture and technology struggling to coexist and find their place, fighting, morphing and twisting.
I tried everything to totally get rid of both humans, cars and vehicles, and keep only images of technology. For some reasons the CLIP (Contrastive Language-Image Pretraining) part of the code responsible for learning and connecting visual concepts from natural language supervision, was strongly trained with tons of images labeled as cars, vehicles and people or something strictly related. So the semantic domain of technology is not separable from cars and vehicles.
The observation made by Iñigo Bilbao is revealed to be dramatically true and fitting in this case. In the end I decided to keep cars and vehicles and play with them, giving them a role, as a reminder of the many biases we can discover in AI, and how that speaks so much about our world and how some peculiar aspects of our society will always percolate into the tools we use and back in a recursive process, shaping their functions and role in our evolution or progress.
This could lead to a very simple deduction: The tool is the message or at least the part of the algorithm generates part of the message.
“I wanted to let AI interpret several words in the prompt, going back and forth to see how a comma or the weight of a specific word can alter the results. This was a pretty long process.”
The soundtrack is a crucial element of the artworks, as it brings in a strong emotional element to the images. As a musician, how would you describe the role of sound in this series?
Sound is very central for me, for many years I’ve worked with materials gathered from streaming platforms, and social networks as well as field recordings or unusual sounds, trying to build some kind of accidental sound design and music from the social bubble as Burial first taught us.
I always liked the realistic imprint coming from a mediated support, the new sonic landmarks and the emblematic sounds of audio compression and the limits of some new media devices; it’s like collecting field recordings in a digital world but recorded by non-professional devices such as smartphones, dash-cams, live recorded concerts, cracks, crashes, impacts, then reinforced with classic sound design process. All of this is mediated by audio compression and so on, ending up building a totally different soundscape. The question in this case is: we’re immersed in a virtual multiverse since the ‘90s, so what has become of our listening and hearing process from a cognitive and perceptual point of view?
In the first iteration there was a very strong musical presence, since it’s more than a couple of years that I’m working on the integration of real and AI generated strings, especially cellos, and my first thought was to go in that direction.
What you hear is basically the sound of disaster, something close to white noise on a liminal level but full of patterns your brain can hook up to.
In this case, I decided to use AI systems to produce a sort of massive but realistic sonic avalanche instead of composing music.
By analyzing some frames of the videos using Llava, I was able to generate a prompt to feed a Latent Diffusion Model for audio generation and enrich my AI-Foley Sound Library which was built around 2021 with the Latentscape project using SampleRNN at the time.
“What you hear is basically the sound of disaster, something close to white noise on a liminal level but full of patterns your brain can hook up.”
I came to this conclusion after seeing the workshop Martina Carbone and Daniele Imani Nobar, which also works with me as assistant, held for Re:Humanism. They focused on using AI for Foley in a classical sense, generating and designing sounds for silent movies.
So after browsing my Sound Library and after listening to it repeatedly I then decided to only focus on these massive realistic sounds, following the morphings and the behavior of the images, while pushing the musical layer in the background, beneath all the other sounds.
At the same time the sound design workflow for an artwork series is very different from the one I use for my music or audiovisual performances.
For this reason, Mattia Magionami‘s support has become essential in the last year. I usually come up with a general workflow, a well defined sound aesthetics and an overall idea for some details, I make some starter templates and collect or generate materials. Mattia then takes charge of all the creative editing, synching, mixing and mastering of the final piece.
Franz Rosati. DATALAKE:GROUNDTRUTH N2, 2024
Another mesmerizing aspect of these animations is the fact that they are constantly morphing, without end, every disastrous event merging into another. The scenes therefore are captivating in presenting a thrilling spectacle of chaos, but at the same time, since the disaster is not permanent, but part of a flow, it does not seem like a tragedy. What have you found interesting in the technique of morphing and constant transformation?
I always worked with chaos intended as a high number of complex events happening together. This definitely depends on my fondness for musicians like Iannis Xenakis or Zbigniew Karkowski, Masami Akita or Paul Dolden, just to cite a few who had the first relevant impact with contemporary culture in my teenage years.
Chaos is potentially where you can create the most interesting connections, a pool of everything happening simultaneously, to be explored and where to find unexpected patterns and relationships.
When we talk about AI, learning is one of the key terms, but remembering is never mentioned. I feel that learning and remembering relate to a different sensibility rather than applying the same exact mechanism. The ease with which mass media and people tend to forget things is a crucial issue in our reaction to information overflow.
The constant morphing flow of images and events, forces you to check for patterns, to hang on landmarks in the screen space and try to learn what you’re seeing and remember something to not get lost in the flux and start to decode what is happening.
“Chaos is potentially where you can create the most interesting connections, a pool of everything happening simultaneously, to be explored and where to find unexpected patterns and relationships.”
Going back to the theme of disaster, this continuous morphing reminds me of that specific instantaneous feeling you have while the disaster is unfolding: a fall from the bicycle, or something more tragic, for instance, not necessarily physical.
In that moment your brain freezes the time: the unexpected event leads to a condition where it’s impossible to find patterns, and time stretches to infinity until this perception ends and you go back to a new, a new different reality to be re-semantized.
Franz Rosati. DATALAKE:GROUNDTRUTH N3, 2024
Both the images and the soundtrack have been generated using AI models. Can you explain the process of creation, and the differences between generating images and generating sound with AI? Given that you already worked with generative algorithms, what do these artificial intelligence programs contribute to your creative process?
I don’t want to go deep into technical stuff about workflows and code. I’ll focus on the creative experience with Generative AI compared to “old school” Generative Algorithms.
There are very huge differences in some aspects. We’re confronting with the same kind of approach at the foundation, based on giving rules and observing narrow variations as results, but we’re dealing with different kinds of complexity.
Dealing with Generative AI means we have to handle visual data condensed in a Latent space and then used to represent words we can prompt. It’s like a magic spell, and numbers are hidden behind this, since the final users have very few numerical parameters.
In “old school” generative process, we’re dealing with numbers and parameters in a very Pythagorean way, using equations, working with euclidean spaces, coordinates or controlling emerging features and systems behaviors.
In a creative approach, this leads the artist and the creative, in a very peculiar position. At the same time this technology is evolving so rapidly that is very much subject to paradigm shifts.
“When we talk about AI, learning is one of the key terms, but remembering is never mentioned. The ease with which mass media and people tend to forget things is a crucial issue in our reaction to information overflow.”
In this series you introduce the concept of “ground truth”, which is used in statistical models, cartography, meteorology, and the military to refer to information that is known to be true. Evidently, the fictions created by 3D simulations and AI models are putting into question what we can call “ground truth.” What has led you to work with this concept in this latest series?
Ground Truth is a technical term used in AI as well as Geographical Information Systems or Remote Sensing (which I used a lot in projects such as Distantia from 2023) and Statistics in general, used to prove if something is real based on empirical evidence.
It’s basically the opposite concept of Inference, which is a more common and popular term in the field of AI.
At the same time, if you ignore the meaning of the term, it could sounds a bit ambiguous: the word “truth” is very central since the advent of the internet and the alleged democratization of the media, this word is being used to represent and declare the state of declaring a single truth itself especially by conspiracy theory influencers, Q-Anon militants and alt-right propaganda at the point that we are now used to identify the word “truth” as a sort of red-flag…for fake, dangerous bad stuff and in general to deny the existence of many truths. So “Truth” is probably the word that best represents the gray areas of our time.
“«Truth» is probably the word that best represents the gray areas of our time”
This exact dichotomy and hard contrast led me to go for his title, to exactly evoke that kind of broken and twisted information system, depicting the distorted infosphere, the flow we are exposed to every day, in contrast with the quantum conception of reality, which gives us the tools to see the many truths reality is made of, that is instead becoming more and more strongly established.
This interview is part of a series dedicated to the artists whose works have been selected at the SMTH + Niio Open Call for Art Students. The jury been selected at the SMTH + Niio Open Call for Art Students. The jury members Valentina Peri, curator, Wolf Lieser, founder of DAM Projects/ DAM Museum, and Solimán López, new media artist, chose 5 artworks that are being displayed on more than 60 screens in public spaces, courtesy of Led&Go.
Cosette Reyes is a Mexican designer, artist, anthropologist, and biochemical engineer. Over the last few years, she has participated in international research projects in the fields of mental health, human evolution, and cognition. This extensive research has inspired a deep exploration into the phenomenon of the mind and its corporeal expressions through design and art. Currently residing in Valencia, Spain, Reyes is in the third year of a Degree in Graphic Design and Digital Media at LABA Valencia, School of Art, Design & New Media. In addition to academic pursuits, she leads several creative and community-building projects.
Since 2022, Reyes has collaborated with House of Chappaz, a prominent contemporary art gallery in Spain, contributing her expertise in motion graphics, 3D, and video art. The choice of the nickname “Ammoniite” reflects a fascination with its connection to science, art, and mystery. The fossilized figure, with its ideal aesthetic proportions, aligns with her main interests. The added “i” in the name symbolizes a commitment to interdiscipline and innovation in professional practice.
Cosette Reyes. Instante, 2024
Your work focuses on the exploration of the mind, with a direct application to human-machine interaction research in interface design. Can you tell me about these two facets of your work, how they relate to each other?
I seek to articulate the whole corporeal part of the human mind, with its behavior and the relationship it has with the new media. I find it especially interesting to explore how the human being leaves its mark on new technologies and this feeds all the systems that will later interact with the humans of the future.
“We have, as designers and artists, the great responsibility to show the options that are available, instead of imposing a unique vision or use.”
As a designer, I think we are at a key point where we are not using all the knowledge we have about human behavior. We have gone from using color psychology and marketing techniques to having a wealth of information about users’ habits, which we can transfer to the users themselves. This opens up a wide range of possibilities, paths, ways of interacting with technology and allows us to go back to introspection and get to know ourselves through our own body and the environment, whether digital or tangible. We have, as designers and artists, the great responsibility to show the options that are available, instead of imposing a unique vision or use. Something that characterizes us as humans is to be curious and to have the possibility to choose. Through design we provide solutions, challenges that we solve with our creativity and the answer to these challenges are creative solutions that provide many options for our user or viewer: it is not about guiding them, or giving them a guideline towards one choice or another, but letting them know that they have all these options, always within an ethical framework, within the legal framework and the context in which we find ourselves and above all with the exercise of our own rights and respect for the rights of others.
Cosette Reyes. Instante. Displayed at CC Plenilunio (Madrid) as part of the SMTH + Niio Open Call. Photo: SMTH
You are studying in the Graphic Design Degree at LABA Valencia. How has your experience in this degree been, what does it contribute to your professional and artistic development?
In LABA Valencia I have developed a lot of technical skills, I have acquired a lot of basic knowledge and I have learned a lot of software, especially new technologies. But what I have valued most about LABA in terms of knowledge in the field of design and the creative sector is that we have contact with working professionals. These professionals make us very aware of what the sector is like, what the market is like, and how they have had this approach with a client, whether it is the Generalitat Valenciana, or the education sector, or even in associations where the clients are themselves. In LABA Valencia, the human aspect stands out. The teachers are very up to date with their syllabus, with all the educational proposals, but they always put a lot of emphasis on the human side, on the tangible and physical side, and on working with real cases, with a global perspective but also, so to say, with the feet on the ground. In the Design Thinking process they put a lot of emphasis on empathy. Empathy has greatly enriched all the knowledge I had and I have been able to articulate it now with design, which has led me to observe human behavior and people in a more global way. But always with that sense that connects and that is incipient to us: being creative, being curious, and above all something very important that is collaborative. That is what LABA Valencia has given me the most: the experience of collaborating.
It has also helped me a lot to meet people who are starting out in the sector, and to share the day-to-day with my colleagues and peers. That is very enriching. Valencia is a city that inspires, a quiet, green city, which is closely linked to design: it has quite an important history in terms of design. All the designers who are now active have had this contact, not only with the community but also at a national level. In the field of design in Valencia I have seen that there is always a discourse and a social motive. They look not only at vulnerable sectors but at things that matter to the community. They are always at the forefront, not only in terms of graphics but also in social movements. It is one of the cities with the highest quality of life.
“What I have valued most about LABA in terms of knowledge in the field of design and the creative sector is that we have contact with working professionals.”
You collaborate since 2022 with House of Chappaz, from this perspective, how do you see the art market today in relation to digital media? What possibilities do you see for artists?
I have had the opportunity to collaborate for about a year with Ismael Chappaz’s gallery, which is a reference gallery in Spain. The gallery is very supportive of design, but above all conscious design, design with a reason. As for the position of digital artists in the market, I think it has evolved a little slower than all the new media and everything digital. Acceptance has always been complicated, because especially after the pandemic we have gone more towards contact, towards everything tangible. But currently and in the last few months I have seen that this impulse to go towards digital and for artists to express themselves in these non-tangible media has been much more supported. I have also noticed that when projects flow better is when there is another physical, tangible and “classic” part, so to speak. In interactive exhibitions, where there is participation of the body, is where I see more possibilities for digital artists.
Cosette Reyes. Instante. Displayed at CC Max Center (Bilbao) as part of the SMTH + Niio Open Call. Photo: SMTH
Your work was selected in the previous edition of the SMTH university call. What was your experience then? How do you see the current collaboration with Niio and the options it brings to artists?
I found it very interesting to bring this art to all kinds of audiences, and not to limit it to museums or spaces where a public that is already interested will experience it. It is important that this happens after the pandemic, because we were quite disconnected in the sense of the body and the tangible, but very connected in a more ethereal sense. I don’t consider that to have been a bad thing, but rather that we’ve been given the opportunity to see how we can be in both environments and have this more hybrid essence. That you go to a physical space of leisure, recreation, being more connected to yourself and seeing the works that speak to your own body, I think that was a very important point to reconnect with all of that. It can be for all audiences a point of inspiration, and I have also seen it in the second call: the artists have brought a much more introspective and more conscious discourse in terms of new media, and also in terms of the body. It’s revealing that most of us have touched the collective: that’s a very interesting process in which you discover yourself as a person and then you see what’s around you and how you can collaborate.
“I found it very interesting to bring this art to all kinds of audiences, and not to limit it to museums or spaces where a public that is already interested will experience it.”
Tell us about Instante: you have worked with Artificial Intelligence programs to generate the dreamlike images that populate this video. How does this piece fit in with your work and your fascination with surrealism? What has it been like to work with AI?
In this work I had thought of doing something else more inclined towards video art, much more about the body but with touches of reverie, capturing physical spaces in which we find ourselves safe, but that we can no longer find. Regarding working with AI, although it seems that these systems are automated and that we only have to give them a few instructions so that everything builds itself, it turns out that there is a kind of dialogue: when I started, I had something very concrete in mind, but when after interacting with these models of artificial intelligence I realized that it wasn’t two or three clicks. So I decided to take up the idea of how our mind doesn’t always reflect what’s going on through our own corporeality. So I gave myself the task of looking for many more references, to give a twist to the idea I had, because it was going the other way and I found it an interesting challenge to say to myself, “I don’t think I should take what this one artificial intelligence engine is giving me, but I could combine it with others and make them collaborate and feed back to each other.”
Cosette Reyes. Instante. Displayed at CC Zaragoza as part of the SMTH + Niio Open Call. Photo: SMTH
I used three models and thanks to that combination I was able to give my original idea a life and essence of its own. As designers we always have the challenge of having an idea, and in the course of being able to materialize it we have a lot of possibilities of tools and new media to be able to transmit it. I wanted to make a tribute to everything we have and everything we enjoy, always being aware that we don’t know when is the last moment we will be able to enjoy it. And I’m not just talking about the natural and tangible environments, but also that our own tools as designers and artists are changing. The Photoshop we used to know, where we could spend hours removing a background, now artificial intelligence is included and in two clicks it removes the background and then you have to adapt to these new times, to these new speeds, and to the new results that technologies are giving you. All this can help you and give you many more possibilities to develop your creativity.
“Now most artificial intelligence engines ask you not only for a prompt but also for a context, a story, an aesthetic.”
Part of the process of working with AI is the use of language, through the prompts with which the images are generated. For me this has been very interesting, because I like writing very much, I have always enjoyed writing and it is one of my best ways of expression. I have always considered it necessary to accompany the visual pieces with text to communicate what I wanted. Now most artificial intelligence engines ask you not only for a prompt but also for a context, a story, an aesthetic, with a description as extensive and precise as possible of what you want to create. The program adapts more and more to the subjective, to the associations of ideas, and in this way gives you results that are less and less strange or sinister and more and more familiar, with which it is easier to connect. You have to narrate a story to it, and then tell it “from all this that I’ve told you, create an image of what happens when this or that happens.”
Cosette Reyes. Instante. Displayed at CC FAN Mallorca as part of the SMTH + Niio Open Call. Photo: SMTH
At the end of the day, that’s what we designers and artists do, we create a story and share it through our own experience but always looking to connect with those who will experience it. Then you have to keep in mind that you have to work with different AI models, for example one that can enhance your prompts to be better understood by another AI engine, or one to work on color or lighting. It’s a new process that you need to adapt to.
