A new horizon, or the end of the road?

In October of last year, a painting titled “Portrait of Edward Bellamy” sold for $432,500 at Christie’s auction house in New York, N.Y. In ordinary circumstances, such a price tag in the exorbitant New York art world might not fetch any noticeable attention. “Portrait of Edward Bellamy,” however, is no ordinary work of art. The painting by Obvious, a French art collective, was created with GANs, or generative neural networks. In layman’s terms, GANs are machine-learning systems that synthesize data sets containing thousands of data points and repackage that information into a new product. 

The art world took notice of this landmark sale, as AI technology has been frightening markets with its autonomous capabilities. Artificial Intelligence has made its presence known in the creative realm of art long before the sale of “Edward Bellamy.” Its capabilities and potential may be limitless as it operates more efficiently than any human artist ever could. 

As scientists and artists explore the possibilities of AI technology and its works, poignant questions arise over the purposes of art and its relation to human expression. Self expression has been inextricably linked to the art we create. So can AI truly make art as we imagine it, and if so, should we allow it to?

Since the “Portrait of Edward Bellamy,” AI has progressed to offer more human-like and diverse pieces of art. The GANs used by Obvious is limited to the art in the dataset that it uses and it cannot add any original artistic flair to the paintings it creates. It picks up patterns from previous works and reshapes them into something different, but not entirely original. Dr. Ahmed Elgammal, a professor of Computer Science at Rutgers, sees GANs as a nascent and rudimentary stage of what artificial intelligence is capable. 

Elgammal described his vision for the future of AI art with AICAN, his Creative Adversarial Network in The Atlantic. AICAN is GANs with a major twist. Instead of drawing from art solely based on its neural network, it also adds a completely new touch or style distinct from what it has learned from the neural network. This added dimension shifts the artwork slightly more into the realm of novel creation. Painting isn’t the only genre of art in which AI is making headwaves. It’s making leaps and bounds of progress in music as well. 

AI has become an increasingly important part of music since its introduction in 1963 when 17-year-old computer scientist Ray Kurzweil displayed a computer program and machine-learning system on the TV program “I’ve Got a Secret” that recognized patterns in classical works and created new original works. 

Since then, AI has developed to instantaneously create instrumentals based off the neural networks and datasets of music. It swaps art data sets for instrumental datasets and analyzes the patterns of these instrumentals to interpret musical patterns with music theory, forming entirely new beats. 

Currently, the state of musical AI isn’t to the point of creating Grammy-worthy work, but it is capable of creating catchy and soothing beats, suitable for lounging or as background music. AI’s improvements in this field have startled some who are worried that its abilities will eventually surpass and supplant human artists. Other AI optimists have taken its qualities in full stride, using it to complement their work, making the creative process more efficient. 

AI allows artists to explore different pathways and ideas in their instrumentals at a faster rate than engineering them manually. Holly Hendron, an artist and a pioneer in the AI music world summed up the aspirations of AI music in an article with Spin magazine. 

“I’m more interested in not how we can write ourselves out of the creative process, but rather expand the creative process by augmenting what we’re doing with this technology,” Hendron said. 

Many artists like Hendron believe that AI holds the key to unlocking new musical possibilities. But others are cautious of allowing AI too much traction in music. One of the disconcerting elements of AI in music is its ability to replicate human musician’s voices and styles creating original works that play off already established artists. This can open the door to many legal battles, as the copyright world tries to discern whether a replication of style that doesn’t use an original “sample” holds the same consequences as intellectual property theft. 

“There’s nothing legally requiring you to give her any profits from it unless you’re directly sampling,” said Meredith Rose, policy counsel at Public Knowledge, in an article in Verge.

These issues are still being mulled over as AI is in its infancy with no true formidable rules or regulations to govern its domain.

There is no telling how far the AI artistic capacity will grow in the coming years. It remains to be seen whether it will end up being an incredible tool for human artists, drastically elevating their abilities or an autonomous steamroller, demolishing everything in its path. This question may boil down to whether we determine the artist’s emotional and creative struggle as a vital component of art.

Written By: Andrew Williams — arts@theaggie.org

Cinematic album tells the story of addiction through three generations

The Lumineers showcase an important message on their third full-length studio album, released on Friday, Sept. 13, but it was the accompanying music videos that revealed the true meaning of the album. “III” focuses on addiction — something that lead singer Wesley Schultz became familiar with when a close family member struggled. 

In a recent interview on Morning Edition, the founding band members explained their thought process. Schultz and drummer Jeremiah Fraites share their history with relatives’ continuing struggle of addiction. 

“I remember my mom woke me up, she said, ‘Sweetheart, your brother got arrested last night,’” Fraites said. “He was arrested in a car, it was around 2:00 in the morning.’ He had smoked PCP and he was so high on drugs that he went inside this A&P, which was like a local supermarket out in the East Coast, and he drank Drano, which is just an unbelievable thing. I don’t know what compelled him to do that. But he was in the ICU for a couple of weeks with second and third-degree burns on his throat.”

Soon after, Fraites’ brother died of a heroin overdose. 

With the two band members’ unfortunate connection to addiction, their album follows three generations of a family as they struggle with their own addictions. The first generation introduced is Gloria, who is an alcoholic struggling to take care of her child while maintaining her marriage. 

“Gloria is an addict,” Schutlz tweeted in an explanation. “Her character was inspired by a member of my family, and no amount of love or resources could save her.  She’s now been homeless for over a year. Loving an addict is like standing among the crashing waves, trying to bend the will of the sea.”

The slow tune of the piano places the audience into a dream-like haze. The videos create a new dimension, the viewers feeling the heartbreaking pain of how addiction impacts a family. 

“There’s this almost cartoonish piano that interrupts the guitar,” Schultz said. “It’s almost like the guitar hands it off to the piano and I think, within the reality of being closely involved with an addict, there is a cartoonish nature to life […] and there’s a mania. There’s a manic nature that is found in that piano… So in the song, every time the guitar is the main focus, it’s the daughter talking to her mother. And every time the piano is the main focus, it’s the mother giving her side of the story back to the daughter. It’s sort of this kind of conversation.”

We see the beginning of Gloria’s addiction in the second song, “Life in the City,” which illustrates her downfall and how she inched closer to her breaking point with alcoholism. With the lyrics, “and if the subways flood and bridges break,” the relation to “Sleep on the Floor” from the band’s 2016 album “Cleopatra” adds a new layer to the song.

“With drug addiction or alcoholism, it really affects the individual and then it has a sort of fallout effect — similar to the effects of a radiation bomb — over time and over years and years, it continually tends to affect people’s loved ones,” Fraites said.

As the album progresses, listeners meet Jimmy, Gloria’s son. Jimmy is a father who struggles with his own addiction. “Jimmy Sparks,” is a conversation between Jimmy and his son — it’s a lesson. Jimmy tells his son repeatedly never to pick up a hitchhiker because it’s “us or them.” When the song ends, Jimmy gets into trouble and is brutally beaten up. He finds himself walking down the road, in the middle of a snowy day. On the opposite side of the road, Jimmy’s son is driving home from a graveyard shift, but taking his dad’s advice, he doesn’t stop to pick up his father, instead leaving him on the side of the road. 

“I think [the song] has a couple layers to it where you’re not really sure why he kept driving and if he even recognized [Jimmy],” Schultz said. “If he did, what does that mean? I think for someone who’s not around an addict very closely, it probably sounds very cold, but to anyone who has been, there are a lot of people who understand what that means, unfortunately.” 

The songs were brought to life in a 37-minute movie set to the tracklist of “III” and which artfully communicates the pain that accompanies addiction.

 The movie shows the highs and the good times Gloria had in her life. She dances with her husband, a soft smile on her face, and she bonds with her mother. The movie also shows the lows of Gloria’s life, including the danger she put her daughter in. The music videos perfectly capture devastation and love. 

Storytelling music videos aren’t a new concept, but The Lumineers took their storytelling to new heights — these are undoubtedly heartbreaking heights, but the album wouldn’t be the same without them. 

Written By: Itzelth Gamboa — arts@theaggie.org

Tarantino mixes reality, fiction in final film

Fans of Hollywood icon Quentin Tarantino waited in anticipation this summer for the director’s (supposed) final movie of his career, “Once Upon a Time … In Hollywood.” Set in 1969 Los Angeles, the movie follows a few days in the life of Rick Dalton (played by Leonardo DiCaprio) and Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt), an actor and his stunt man duo, respectively. As Dalton’s career as a cowboy television star begins to diminish to one-time appearances as television villains, Dalton and Booth’s dynamic transforms into one of stewardship and oddly endearing friendship. 

Booth — muscular and cool with a potentially criminal background — begins acting as Dalton’s chauffeur and handyman as Dalton emotionally grapples with the potential end of his once-shining career. His professional decline becomes all the more humiliating as up-and-coming starlet and covergirl Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie) and director Roman Polankski (Rafał Zawierucha) move in next door, renting the gated home that sits above his. 

The introduction of Tate and Polanski is where the movie takes a historical-fiction turn (emphasis on the fiction), and makes Tarantino an omnipotent director of the past. Tarantino is not a newcomer to revisionist history and storytelling, as his characters Dalton and Booth become embedded in — and alter — the infamous events of the Manson Family’s brutal murder of Tate, Polankski and visiting friend Jay Sebring (Emile Hirsch). For those unaware of the Manson Family and their star-studded killing spree, a Wikipedia read is recommended in order to grasp the film in its entirety. 

DiCaprio delivers comical, emotionally dramatic scenes of Dalton stressing over forgetting lines in his trailer, another example of DiCaprio’s sheer talent as an actor. Meanwhile, Booth picks up a flirting teenage hitchhiker named Pussycat (Margaret Qualley), who is, coincidentally, a member of the Mason Family. 

While returning Pussycat to her home, Dalton visits Spahn Ranch, where the psychedelic-consuming, sex-having, apocalypse-preparing and murder-doing Mason Family is currently residing. After becoming acquainted with the family by serving a member a knuckle sandwhich or two, by coincidence and by Tarantino’s doing, Booth later violently interferes in the Manson Family’s attempted murder at the Tate residence — cue the quintessential, gruesome violence expected in a Tarantino film.

“Once Upon A Time … In Hollywood” is ultimately charming. It holds the same choppiness of scenes, distortion and quirkiness essential to a Tarantino film. The cast was picked to perfection, and each delivery is masterful. While it does not equate to the same level of talent held in films like “Pulp Fiction,” Tarantino did not end his film career at a low point. 

And Tarantino’s alteration of history is not vapid or meaningless. The Tate Murders of 1969 are often quoted as the end of the Golden Age of Hollywood — Dalton’s quivering career serves as a testament. With the starlet saved and becoming a new neighborly acquaintance of Dalton, the Golden Age may live on in Tarantino’s reality. He may be commenting on what the movie industry could have been, or should be in his mind. Or it may be Tarantino’s attempt to say goodbye to the end of his era as a director. 

Written By: Caroline Rutten — arts@theaggie.org