The rise of artificial intelligence in the art world has been as dazzling as it is ambiguous. For some, it represents a revolutionary tool that expands the boundaries of creation; for others, it poses a direct threat to the integrity of the artistic act. In just a short time, AI has moved from being a technological curiosity to a real and increasingly influential presence in the visual arts.
As an artist working with materiality and the slowness of manual processes, I observe this phenomenon with both curiosity and caution. This is not about taking sides, but about understanding the many layers of a transformation still unfolding.
Collaboration or Replacement?
One of the most persistent debates is whether AI serves as a tool for artists or a force that aims to replace them. Many creators are already experimenting with generative algorithms to enhance their processes: from generating sketches to analyzing composition or simulating possible outcomes.
But when AI-generated images start appearing in exhibitions, selling as “artworks,” and competing in calls for entries alongside human-made pieces, uncomfortable questions arise: What do we now understand as authorship? What role do intention, awareness, and embodiment still play?
The Aesthetics of the Algorithm
Another area of discussion is the dominant visual style in many AI-generated works. While often striking, these images tend to show a kind of sameness: spectacular compositions, saturated colors, dreamlike symmetries.
Are we witnessing a new global aesthetic dictated by data? Or simply repeating what the algorithm has been taught to recognize?
Algorithmic creativity, by nature, is derivative. It learns from millions of pre-existing images and synthesizes what appears most common or successful. So where does that leave room for error, doubt, poetic interruption? For that which defies logic and moves us precisely because of its unpredictability?
Time, Body, Matter
Art made by human hands carries time, body, and matter. Every brushstroke, every stain, every layer of paint contains the trace of a gesture. That physical and symbolic depth is difficult—perhaps impossible—to replicate with a machine. It’s not a question of visual quality, but of lived experience.
The viewer, too, responds differently depending on how a piece was made. Knowing a painting took weeks in a studio—through mistakes, choices, and silences—feels different than contemplating an image generated in seconds. Both may be beautiful, but their emotional and existential weight is not the same.
Ethics and the Future
Beyond aesthetics, the arrival of AI in the arts raises urgent ethical questions. What happens to copyright when an AI learns from thousands of artworks without consent? What kind of creative industries do we want to nurture in the coming years? How do we ensure that art doesn’t become a highly efficient repetition of past formulas?
The future is unwritten—and that, too, is a chance.
Rather than rejecting or idealizing AI, perhaps we must learn to integrate it critically, without losing sight of what makes art a human experience: its vulnerability, its mystery, its ability to express what still has no name.
Continuing the Conversation
If you’re interested in these intersections between creation, technology, and the body, I invite you to read more on my blog.
There I share open questions, works in progress, and texts that aim to think art from the present, without losing the roots that sustain it.
