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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
Dev Harlan is a New York-based artist whose work in sculpture, installation, and digital media explores the interplay between technology, nature, and the impact of human activity on our planet. His practice delves into themes such as landscape, anthropogenic change, and technological consumption, prompting viewers to question the often-assumed separation between human societies and the natural world. Harlan’s work invites audiences to see technology as embedded within, and inseparable from, the environment rather than as an external force.
Harlan’s work has been exhibited across the United States and internationally, with solo exhibitions in New York at the Christopher Henry Gallery and Gallery Madison Park. He has been included in international group shows such as “Noor” at the Sharjah Art Museum, the New Museum’s “Ideas City” in New York, and the Singapore Light Art Festival. Recognized for his contributions to digital media arts, Harlan was a 2020 NYFA Fellowship Finalist and won a 2022 Mozaik Artist Grant. His work is included in the permanent collections of corporate and private collectors, underscoring his impact and appeal.
Dev Harlan has launched on Niio his most recent series of artworks, Speculative Cores, which offer a compelling visual metaphor of the effects of our consumerist society on the environment. In this interview, he elaborates on the concepts and the processes behind his work.
Dev Harlan. Speculative Cores (Internet of Bubble Mailers), 2024
This new series explores the impact of our consumerist society on our planet, made evident in the growing amounts of waste that we are producing. It is obviously connected to your previous work exploring geology and terraformation. Can you elaborate on the connections between your previous work and this series?
Much of my work has a geological theme motivated by travels and residencies in the desert, and more recently my continuing education in Earth Science. When studying the landscape it is difficult to ignore the effects of anthropogenic change. The most obvious in the desert being strip mines, of which I have visited many. These are inextricably linked to technology –every single electronic device, battery or screen contains elements that must be extracted from the Earth.
In my previous moving image artworks I have worked with this theme of global resource extraction and the myth of limitless consumption through the juxtaposition of landscape elements and technological debris. This new work “Speculative Cores” is just one step adjacent where I am expressing this theme through the language of geoscience, specifically the well known form of the geological core sample. Technology is seen buried in stratigraphic layers with the rocks and minerals of which it is made.
The artworks present a series of 3D-scanned elements including sand and stone, as well as plastics and e-waste. Can you describe the process of creation?
In some ways this begins from a habit of collecting things. I have boxes of jars and bottles containing sand samples I have collected from all over the world, wherever I travel. Rocks also. I also have accumulations of electronic junk in the studio, and sometimes collect more from recycling centers and the vast amounts of waste left on sidewalks and loading docks throughout NYC.
In my process of 3D scanning artworks in the studio I began mixing materials–studies or works in progress with sand and rocks and broken electronics. For the core samples series I layer all these diverse materials in a large acrylic cylinder and create a scan of the cylinder. The scans are then further combined and composed with each other using digital tools.
Composing these 3D scans as cylinders that evoke geological core samples gives a powerful message, suggesting that all this trash and debris will remain on our planet long after our present time. Do you think that viewers will grasp the meaning of the core sample as a testimony of a process of centuries, or millenia?
Certainly that is the intention, and indeed many of the proposed definitions of the Anthropocene epoch attempt to define a specific place in the geological record where humans have already left indelible traces, such as increased CO2 concentrations in stone, or radioactive particles from nuclear weapons testing.
I see many artists examining this form of the core cylinder, in what has been termed the ‘geological turn’, as it is a widely recognized shorthand for our ability to understand Earth history through the geosciences. In a real sense a core can be considered a dataset that records hundreds of thousands or even millions of years. But so also is the side of a mountain. Our landfills will one day be parts of mountains, with cell phones, cars, bricks and diapers. We may ask with seriousness, is that the record we wish to leave behind?
Dev Harlan. Speculative Cores (Alabaster Quickcam), 2024
Besides the conceptual aspect of putting these elements together, there is a clear attention to aesthetics, as is also evidenced in your previous series Hegemony of Screensavers. Which aesthetic decisions influenced the making of these compositions?
The photogrammetry scanning process comes with a lot of artifacts and unpredictability and there is a tension between wanting to embellish or “improve” the scan versus letting the model be what it is. I think I take a cue here from Hito Steryerl’s “poor image” theory in that leaving the artifacts and distortions in the scanning process helps tell the story of what the artwork is and how it came to be. The model simply rotates through the frame against a solid field to achieve a sort of literalness in presenting a 3D scan as precisely what it is.
At the other end of this tension I do want to add some uncanniness or departure from reality, as the artwork is still only a facsimile of the real. The trailing after image I use a lot also has a sort of literalness to it – the incremental temporality of time base art. It also provides emergent aesthetic properties and a sort of elegance in pattern and form that I find satisfying. Part of the strategy is to draw in a viewer’s attention with an aesthetic appeal which, on closer inspection, may communicate a more difficult story about the entanglement of nature and technological civilizations.
Dev Harlan. Speculative Cores (Salt Lake Slab), 2024
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
The creative duo Moonwalker (Dany Vo and Vy Vo) has its roots in the worlds of graphic design and illustration, where they honed their skills in creating mesmerizing artistic compositions exploring nature and fashion. Through the technique of digital collage, the artists generate fantastic worlds populated by flowers, plants, and human beings in idyllic harmony. Infused with gracile movements, their compositions are visually seductive and deeply inspiring, as is demonstrated by their growing number of followers and the interest in their work, which is expanding widely around the globe.
Niio is proud to present a selection of their work focused on nature and inspired by their personal experience with plants and flowers. The artcast Floral Propagationcollects several pieces created with AI models, while a series ofcatalogsoffer selected limited editions to art collectors. In the following interview, the artists elaborate on the concepts and motivations behind their work.
Moonwalker. Vivid Petals Collection #3, 2024
As illustrators and graphic designers, you have a keen sense of aesthetics and an instinct to create alluring visual compositions. This is apparent in your artistic work, which denotes a conscious selection of color palettes and use of balance and symmetry. How important is this compositional aspect of your work?
We prioritize creating visually compelling compositions with strong contrasts, bold shapes, and carefully selected color palettes. In today’s saturated digital landscape, we aim for instant impact—artwork that prompts viewers to pause and engage deeply. Despite our maximalist appearance, our principle of “less is more” guides us in every element choice, ensuring each detail serves a purpose. This compositional approach not only defines our visual style but also influences our subject matter selection, allowing us to effectively convey narratives and evoke emotions that resonate profoundly with our audience.
You work with digital collage, in a way that is very much in line with a visual culture saturated with images. Would you say that nowadays it only makes sense to create a new image by appropriating existing content? And when you create your own libraries, do you elaborate an internal logic for the use of these elements, to develop your own visual vocabulary?
Our approach to digital collage began with a fascination for historical botanical drawings, which often go underappreciated in today’s visual culture despite their rich detail and historical significance. These assets, now freely accessible, sparked our desire to reinterpret them through animated digital art, bridging the gap between traditional artistry and modern visual expressions. As we developed our own libraries of visual elements, including more than just botanical illustrations, we established an internal logic to guide their integration. This process has evolved organically into a collage style, shaped through continuous experimentation and refinement. Each element is carefully chosen to contribute to our unique visual vocabulary, ensuring that every composition tells a compelling visual story.
Moonwalker. In Bloom Collection #2, 2024
Your work deals with visions of nature. Currently most of us live in urban environments surrounded by domesticated forms of nature: trees bordering the sidewalks, parks designed for our leisure, pot plants at home. Is the representation of nature through art another form of domestication? Why do you think that we are so moved by the representation of nature?
The domesticated forms of nature that surround us in urban environments serve as essential sanctuaries for contemplation and connection. Through our art, we aim to capture and convey the profound bond we feel with nature—the way it enables us to reconnect with our true selves and harmonize our inner and outer worlds. Our artworks are a manifestation of this bond, translated into visual elements that we are privileged to share with others. We believe that representations of nature in art resonate deeply because they evoke this universal longing for connection and renewal. By exploring and interpreting nature through our creative lens, we hope to move our audience as profoundly as we ourselves are moved by the beauty and tranquility of the natural world.
Moonwalker. Vivid Petals Collection #4, 2024
Given your personal experience in caring for plants, how do you think this love for the natural environment can be communicated through your work?
We bring a similar love for nature into our artwork. Like plant enthusiasts, we select flowers with interesting forms and colors. This careful curation is central to our creative process, where we combine these elements into harmonious compositions. Occasionally, we create unique, imaginary flowers, always rooted in our methodical approach. Animation adds depth to our work, enriching the visual storytelling of our pieces.
Moonwalker. In Bloom Collection #1, 2024
In the series presented on Niio, the animations depict different species of flowers that have been created through AI-assisted digital collage. The digital medium allows you to create anything you can imagine, and while the compositions are quite spectacular, the flowers seem mostly realistic. Why did you choose to retain this level of realism instead of creating purely fantastical plants?
Artificial Intelligence is indeed integral to our creative process, but we approach its use with a specific vision in mind. While AI allows us to explore limitless possibilities in digital collage, our goal isn’t to create purely fantastical plants. Instead, we harness AI to achieve a balance: realistic blooming flowers that resonate authentically with viewers. This realism is essential because it aligns with our artistic intent to capture the beauty of natural blooms, akin to what we might capture in real-life footage. Creating such footage would typically demand extensive time, resources, and effort that are not always feasible for us. Therefore, AI serves as a tool to manifest our artistic vision effectively, ensuring our animations evoke a genuine connection with the natural world.
Moonwalker. Vivid Petals Collection #1, 2024
AI programs provide immense possibilities of creation to artists, yet they tend to generate similar aesthetics, as it has been made apparent with the progression from the algorithmic pareidolia of Google’s DeepDream to the blurry “paintings” created with GANs and now the morphing animations made possible by current AI models. As artists, how do you find your visual style and aesthetics within these ongoing trends?
Our focus is on depicting nature authentically, rather than following AI trends. While AI offers many creative possibilities, we prefer to use it as a tool to enhance our vision, not dictate it. We find inspiration in discovering new flowers and natural beauty, aiming to create artworks that are unique to our own style and perspective.
Your work also connects with the world of fashion. What do you find most interesting about fashion as a creative field and a material for your artistic creations? Since both the representation of nature and the human body are visually very attractive, how do these two elements compete in your creations? Fashion inspires us for its creative blend of innovation and aesthetic expression. The Dutch fashion designer Iris Van Herpen, particularly, deeply influences us with her designs that intertwine with nature. In our art, we see nature and the human body not as competing elements but as complementary. Nature offers timeless beauty and intricate details, while the human body provides expressive form and emotion. We integrate these elements to explore themes of identity and connection, creating compositions where botanical motifs and human forms harmoniously interact. This approach invites viewers to reflect on the profound relationship between humanity and the natural world.
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.
The artist duo Cruda Collective, formed by Laila Saber Rodriguez (CAI-CDMX) and Andrea Galano Toro (CL, ES), creates ways of re-thinking established narratives and mindsets through what they describe as rewilding practices: “ to activate the wilderness, playfulness and the glitches within storytelling & mythology.” They approach the world, aesthetic, and language of magic to address the non-normative through playful action and critical thought. Their artistic practice mainly consists of audiovisual performances, videos, workshops, and spell-casting.
Cruda Collective. Re-Rooted, 2024
Your work deals with magic, hybridity, transformation, the non-normative, wild, unseen, and obscured. You address these fields of knowledge and existence through workshops, bestiaries, performances, and spells. How do you deal with the dichotomy between the untamed and the systems of order and rationalization behind analytical practices such as making a bestiary or a cartography, and the necessary application of rules and consistent methods in the elaboration of a workshop or a spell?
Andrea Galano: We are fascinated with the processes that have a certain order, because we’re very interested in transformation. We like to adopt processes such as those involved in cartography, or burial too, which have a certain method or ritual. We then switch the narrative, still within that particular method, to talk about transformation or spells: we appropriate certain structures or ways of ordering. It is useful when you’re talking of things that can be ungraspable.
Laila Saber: In order to apply amethod, an order, or an analytical practice, we need to be involved and interact with that practice or method in order to break it and disrupt it. And we also consider how the incomprehensible or the disorganized, the disobedient as an archetype, or as a process is what can create new models and new systems of knowledge. We reference a lot the concept of “Body without Organs” by Deleuze and Guattari: how can the breaking down of the body, and the normal functions of the organs, address new maneuvers and new functions of the body? And then how can it produce new models of thinking?
Andrea Galano: Mappings, rituals, the functions of the body… These are things that create the world we live in. So if we transform them, then we are somehow creating other worlds.
It seems that we are always attracted to chaos and everything that is mysterious or hidden, but at the same time, we need structures to understand these “untamed” aspects of reality. How is the experience of people who are in your workshop, what are their expectations, and how do they react to the methods that you suggest to them?
AG: Sometimes we start with something that is very playful, not knowing yet what you’re going to do with what you’re making. And then later we ask them to think of a narrative with it. So rather than thinking of the concept, and then making something, sometimes we do it the other way around, just to see what happens. This is the method that tends to work best, first doing hands-on or embodied exercises, and later on asking participants about the narrative and perhaps bringing in theory.
LS: I think most of our participants are from the art world: they are makers, or creatives, or artists and designers. So it becomes super interesting to propose to them to think with their hands and think with the body rather than with the rationale of having to produce a perfect product. By starting with this uncertainty and playfulness, we also ask them to defy the linear structures that makers are so conditioned to go follow. We actually just start all the workshops by saying: “Okay, today we die. Today everything is gonna die.” We start with death, and from death everything begins. We read really beautiful texts specially written by Gloria Anzaldúa on Coatlicue and Mesoamerican deities, which are all about transformation and rebirth.
Writer Alan Moore has said that magic was once “a science of everything,” and that “If magic were regarded as an art it would have culturally valid access to the infrascape, the endless immaterial territories that are ignored by and invisible to Science, that are to scientific reason inaccessible, and thus comprise magic’s most natural terrain.” Would you agree to this connection between magic and art? How do you see this idea from the context of your artistic practice?
AG: It is true that there’s a certain first reaction or expectation that we’re going to talk about, I don’t know, paganism. Which anyway, we find very interesting, but it’s not in the way we are approaching it. However, this is good because it creates this reaction of “oh, but what is it gonna be about?” That is an interesting starting point. Also, for example, we always talk about knowledges, in plural. There are many ways of thinking that coexist, and have coexisted in the past, but perhaps were erased or they’re not part of the main Western narrative. So already thinking that there are other alternatives to this monolithic Western thinking, becomes very intriguing to the participants, and also to ourselves. We are very interested in different fields of knowledge, such as biology or ecology, and we find that some of the processes they study are very magical. For instance, the fact that something new can emerge out of two separate things that were put together, that feels like magic.
LS: Something we’ve also been working on is how magic animates worlds and landscapes or elements. We imagine what it would be like to engage in a conversation with, for example, the ocean or the mountain. What can those bodies tell us about the world we live in? And how, within that conversation, another world can emerge? And I would say that magic is another word for speculation or imaginative thinking, engaging in a really beautiful and often confronting or disruptive way of thinking and acting. In this way, we can apply Magical Thinking to everything, not only science, but let’s say cooking, business, or politics. In all discourses there is the possibility of redirecting what is expected and opening new paths to creative thinking.
Similarly to how science has undervalued magic, as Alan Moore states, it has often dismissed art and artistic research. When you approach science, how is your connection to art and magic perceived? Have you had this discussion with scientists?
AG: There are many people from the sciences that are very inspiring to us, such as Karen Barad, who has a background in quantum physics. We do find references from science that resonate with us, and at the same time we’ve had workshops where some participants were scientists who found it very interesting for them to actually play and think of something that didn’t have to be real or measured.
LS: It’s in the symbiotic fusions between disciplines where we can find interesting models and new forms of seeing the world. I don’t think that, as artists alone, we can make those changes, and neither can biologists alone. We need to have conversations, and work together to open up these worlds, which are often isolated and self-referential. It also comes down to the language barrier: the way we speak, as artists, is very different from the language of science, and of course we need to find ways of understanding each other.
You take the concept of rewilding beyond the sphere of the natural sciences and the environment to encompass a rewilding of our inherited ideas and dogmas, particularly in relation to a society driven by Western colonialism and patriarchal structures. Can you elaborate on how your work addresses this expanded notion of rewilding?
LS: We like to think of rewilding as a practice of planting new seeds. Just as in an ecosystem or a rainforest, seeds travel and grow into plants, bushes, and trees, by communicating ideas we are planting something that ultimately will regenerate the terrain. These ideas mingle and all the new thoughts, disciplines, and discourses entangle within one another. In this way, rewilding is a portal into other possibilities of what there is, both in the natural world as in society and in our mindsets.
AG: The artist Johanna Hedva, who works a lot with witchcraft, once said: “It’s no coincidence that as capitalism began to take root, a regime of colonial exploitation started to run amok, de-enchanting the world. If the world is seen as a lifeless resource, it can be mined without compunction.” In this sense, rewilding is re-enchanting, not only in terms of ecology, as Hedva suggests, but also culturally and artistically, connecting with those cultures that celebrate the enchantment of the world and have been sidelined by post-colonial Western rationalism. In these cultures and in the concept of rewilding we find a more sustainable relationship with our planet
Your interest in beasts and shapeshifting brings to mind Donna Haraway’s concept of the Cthulhucene, with its tentacular, earth-bound, promiscuously hybrid forms as a response to the rational, human-centric view of the Anthropocene. How does your work relate to Haraway’s concept, and subsequently to our relationship to the environment?
AG: Haraway also talks about kinship with other species. We relate a lot to this idea: when we talk about bees or hybrids, there’s definitely this kinship with other beings. Also, in the spells we write or perform, we usually embody creatures that have other forms of communicating, such as bioluminescence, or the snake shedding its skin…
LS: In terms of the Cthulhucene,we are also interested in the chthonic, which relates to what lies under the earth or soil. We’ve been recently researching on our last workshop about this, the underworld and the gestures and acts of burial. We have found inspiration in the book Underland by Robert Macfarlane, in which the author speaks about Anthropocene unburials: “Forces, objects and substances thought safely confined to the underworld are declaring themselves above ground with powerful consequences.” We are a species that buries, and also a species that digs, and in our exploitation of the Earth’s resources, what was buried comes back to the surface.
Process and narrative can be said to be driving elements of your performances and workshops. How do these two concepts translate into your videos? How does the video, as an audiovisual narrative passively consumed by a spectator, connect to your other forms of knowledge transmission and active participation? What do you expect of the video as a medium?
AG: We’re very drawn to video because it has the capacity to build a particular world and, when it is combined with sound, it can create an immersive experience. We love storytelling, and we find in video a way to play with narratives and also a dissonance between what you see and what you hear. In our video pieces we aim to take the viewer through a certain journey, and also give them space to process their experience.
LS: We often refer to our video artworks as portal openers. The term “video” sounds very limiting, so we try to use this medium to bridge different narratives and suggest new meanings, subvert expectations. We like to think about forms of nonlinear filmmaking, fluid filmmaking, a kind of storytelling that is sometimes slippery, that sometimes leaves you wondering what is going on.
AG: Another aspect of video that attracts us is the possibility of working with different levels of perception, from images of the cosmos to those of a microscope. Also with audio, we can play with very different sources to create a hybrid of contents and meanings.
LS: Our practice is also evolving in this sense, we are increasingly interested in creating immersive experiences through audio visual performances where we have both visual and sound as we’re performing. We often describe our videos as “spells” because our performances and videos are actions of enchantment, and as a video piece, this action becomes a spell that is out there and can be activated by any viewer.
Since your work addresses that which is outside of the normative and established, how do you see the possibility of taking it out of the exhibition space, the cultural institution, and into an everyday commercial space as is the case in this distributed screening project with SMTH and Niio?
AG: This is something new for us, and therefore it is also exciting. As we were saying earlier, playing a video can be like activating a spell, enchanting a place, so I’m curious to see if it resonates with the people in these spaces or not. In any case, it is occupying a space where it is not expected, and that is interesting in itself. I also think that it is important that the artworks do not only stay in the galleries or in spaces dedicated to art and presented to an art audience.
LS: It feels magical to have this artifact existing in several spaces, having a presence in these commercial locations. In a way, it is like breaking a curse, maybe the colonial curse, the capitalist curse… It is about rewilding too, in this shopping mall in which it may not be seen or understood, but it will still be there, and possibly prompt questions, reflections, or experiences.
You are currently students at Bau and Elisava Design Schools in Barcelona. What is your experience of the educational models in these schools? How do your studies inform your artistic practice? What is your opinion about the current perception of artistic research as a field of knowledge creation?
AG: We come from different studies in the past, and now we are also in different studies in our respective schools. As for me at BAU, I’m doing a Master’s Degree in Audiovisual and Immersive Spaces. And I think I can only speak for my master rather than the school, but I’d say we’ve learned a lot about having a critical approach to the ways of making. I think that’s very interesting, because it’s not so much about the topic or the concept, but about the tools you use, such as open source software or making your own electronics. It is also a very collaborative environment. Being part of a community that is open to sharing knowledge is an eye opening experience that helps you get rid of the old-fashioned idea of the artist as the sole creator of their work.
LS: I studied Fine Arts in the Netherlands, in a super good program, which involved a lot of theory, so we read Deleuze, Foucault, Haraway and many others as part of our studio practice, and I think that set the foundation for my ongoing studies at Elisava Design School in a Master’s Degree in Art Direction and New Narratives. I do feel that there’s a gap between making and keeping with a critical speculative practice that is really valuable in any artistic research. In that sense, it has also been interesting for me to be immersed in a space that is really focused on functionality and communication. I’d say that this has led me to be more receptive or more agile, so I can sense what it is exactly that I’m disrupting or trying to disrupt eventually. I also find it valuable that my classmates are from different nationalities, which brings an intersection of multiple cultures, that helps a lot in working with the concept of new narratives.
ReRooted presents an interesting take on the patriarchal notion of masculinity from a wider perspective that connects with the notion of rewilding ideas and avoids traditional imagery about masculinity to suggest addressing this subject from the perspective of living beings and natural systems. It is also connected to a workshop activity. Can you elaborate on the context and intentions behind this audiovisual artwork?
AG: In this artwork it is important to mention our collaborator the writer Virginia Vigliar, who hosted a workshop titled ReRooted: an ecological approach to masculinity.It is in the context of this workshop and our conversations with Virginia that we decided to create this video. It takes elements from discussions we had with participants in the workshop, with some quotes making it into the video itself. It was challenging for us to decide which imagery to use, since we wanted to disrupt traditional views of masculinity.
LS: We spoke a lot about how we are all affected by the patriarchal archetype of men and the patriarchy. Virginia’s approach in the workshop is to uproot myths in our stories surrounding masculinity, and rethink them. Actually, we came to say reboot it, because we need to reconceive masculinity as not being patriarchal per se. For the visuals, we decided to focus on microscopic imagery and then macroscopic images, from the cosmos. And in bridging those two, we were trying to reflect on how masculinity has its macro stories, which form a big corpus, but also micro stories that, perhaps, are hidden, and you can’t really see until you zoom into them.