AI Art San Francisco-based artist Nathan Shipley uses AI to create generative art. Nathan uses AI to see what historical figures would look like if they were alive in our modern world.
I love this because it illustrates that even realistic art takes certain liberties to exaggerate features, proportions, and colors that might not exist in real lighting/faces.
Except Beethovan. The AI decided "fuck it" and himbofied that poor man.
blathers is a whole ass academic with phds in ichthyology and entomology and a minor in art history and yet when a small child hands him the literal mona lisa and tells him they bought it from his old flame’s ex-husband who is also a wanted criminal his response is to go hmmm. yes. thank you. the best place for this is the museum of this desert island. there is nothing strange at all about this turn of events.
just based on from what i can remember from the early game i feel like blathers is probably on the island to do a field survey on the local fauna and the paleontological significance of the area. so anyway cut to blathers back in animal city doing his presentation during the yearly conference. the powerpoint concludes and he asks for questions.
man in crowd: sir. sir may i ask–what is that in the background of the fourth slide
blathers: eh? oh! well, that’s one of the paintings which was kindly donated to me by this island’s inhabitants! isn’t it grand?
man in crowd, as his fellow academics begin to murmur: yes is…is that the…is that the real mona lisa, sir?
blathers: by my accounts i do believe it is!
man in crowd, now having to yell over the commotion: sir are you aware that that painting was stolen from the louvre in a highly publicized heist. it’s all over the news. how are you not aware of this
do u guys ever look back at a piece of half-done writing and think ‘this could be brilliant. this could be my mona lisa. my starry night. my idris elba’ but you have absolutely no drive to finish it despite an unfaltering desire to see it finished
“Untitled” (Portrait of Ross in L.A.) is a 1991 piece by Felix Gonzalez-Torres in the collection of the Art Institute of Chicago. It’s a spilled pile of candy.
“Untitled” (Portrait of Ross in L.A.) represents a specific body, that of Ross Laycock, Gonzalez-Torres’ partner who died of AIDS in 1991. This piece of art serves as an “allegorical portrait,” of Laycock’s life.
The pile of candy consists of commercially available, shiny wrapped confections. The physical form of the work changes depending on the way it is installed. The work ideally weighs 175 pounds (79 kg) at installation, which is the weight of Ross Laycock when healthy.
Visitors are invited to take a piece of candy from the work. Gonzalez-Torres grew up Roman Catholic and taking a candy is a symbolic act of communion, but instead of taking a piece of Christ, the participant partakes of the “sweetness” of Ross. As the patrons take candy, they are participants in the art. Each piece of candy consumed is like the illness that ate away at Ross’s body.
Multiple art museums around the world have installed this piece.
Per Gonzalez-Torres’ parameters, it is up to the museum how often the pile is restocked, or whether it is restocked at all. Whether, instead, it is permitted to deplete to nothing. If the pile is replenished, it is metaphorically granting perpetual life to Ross.
In 1991, public funding of the arts and public funding for AIDS research were both hot issues. HIV-positive male artists were being targeted for censorship. Part of the logic of “Untitled” (Portrait of Ross in L.A.) is you can’t censor free candy without looking ridiculous, and the ease of replicability of the piece in other museums makes it virtually indestructible.
As of late September 2022, the Art Institute of Chicago has changed their exhibit label on this piece to remove any mention of AIDS, Ross Laycock, death, or his relationship with Gonzalez-Torres (via willscullin on Twitter).
Left: old wall text. Right: new wall text as of 9/28/22.
The language they’ve changed to use, talking about “the average body weight of an adult male” is the kind of careful language that art museums might use when we don’t know for sure what something is about – but in this case we do know exactly what the Gonzalez-Torres intended this to be about. (Take it from the Smithsonian if you don’t want it from me!) The museum hasn’t attempted to offer any explanation why, although I cannot think of any unless they wanted to give in object lesson that erasure doesn’t stop even in death.
More Solarpunk inspiration images!! To recap: some of the defining features of how I imagine solarpunk are: Art Nouveau + other old styles of architecture and fashion, stained-glass solar panels, sustainable-energy-powered tech, lots of inner-city gardening, and lots of streetcars.
Okay, on to image credits: 1: Kingsbury, from Ghibli’s How’l Moving Castle 2: Stained glass dome, photo by Jyoti Srivastava 3: A streetcar running in Portland 4: Photo taken by John Meckley 5: Cityscape by Imperial Boy 6: Image by me, traced over image by Alphonse Mucha 7: GaiaOnline avatars made using tektek.org 8: Art by Owen Carson
I really wish I could draw my own cityscapes, but alas, I am no artist. Instead I have to comb the internet, searching for “close enough.”
Maybe someday I’ll have the disposable income to commission artists to draw pieces that are intentionally solarpunk….. Someday….
“Untitled” (Portrait of Ross in L.A.) is a 1991 piece by Felix Gonzalez-Torres in the collection of the Art Institute of Chicago. It’s a spilled pile of candy.
The pile of candy consists of commercially available, shiny wrapped confections. The physical form of the work changes depending on the way it is installed. The work ideally weighs 175 pounds (79 kg) at installation, which is the average body weight of an adult male.
“Untitled” (Portrait of Ross in L.A.) represents a specific body, that of Ross Laycock, Gonzalez-Torres’ partner who died of AIDS in 1991. This piece of art serves as an “allegorical portrait,” of Laycock’s life.
Visitors are invited to take a piece of candy from the work. Gonzalez-Torres grew up Roman Catholic and taking a candy is a symbolic act of communion, but instead of taking a piece of Christ, the participant partakes of the “sweetness” of Ross. As the patrons take candy, they are participants in the art. Each piece of candy consumed is like the illness that ate away at Ross’s body.
Multiple art museums around the world have installed this piece.
Per Gonzalez-Torres’ parameters, it is up to the museum how often the pile is restocked, or whether it is restocked at all. Whether, instead, it is permitted to deplete to nothing. If the pile is replenished, it is metaphorically granting perpetual life to Ross.
In 1991, public funding of the arts and public funding for AIDS research were both hot issues. HIV-positive male artists were being targeted for censorship. Part of the logic of “Untitled” (Portrait of Ross in L.A.) is you can’t censor free candy without looking ridiculous, and the ease of replicability of the piece in other museums makes it virtually indestructible.