Artillery Magazine

Tag: NFTs

  • AI “Artist” Declares Victory Art Brief

    AI “Artist” Declares Victory
    Art Brief

    The age of artificial intelligence (AI) has arrived whether we like it or not and now it has come to the art world. That should not really be much of a shock. It’s now five years since AlphaGo defeated the best Go players in the world. Writers have auto-complete options readily available. AI is facilitating incredible advances in the bio-sciences with AlphaFold. The latest frontiers are the creative ones—writing fiction, composing music and making visual art.

    This column has periodically explored the question of just what constitutes art. My very first column explored digital art and devices that assist artists such as David Hockney, who has produced prodigious quantities of stunning artwork made on his iPad. A recent column concluded that NFTs are not art but really entries on Blockchains (not surprisingly NFT values crashed during the summer 2022 crypto apocalypse). 

    Now we are dealing with the controversy surrounding the advent of AI image generating programs such as DALL-E 2, Midjourney and Stable Diffusion. The complex programming process known as diffusion is evolving fast. It is estimated that DALL-E 2 produces images four times more detailed than the first iteration introduced a little more than a year ago. 

    A computer engineer, Jason M. Allen of Pueblo, Colorado, achieved instant notoriety when a “work of art” he created strictly with descriptive word prompts on the Midjourney program won an annual art contest at the Colorado state fair this summer. The work he titled “Theatre D’opera Spatial” won a blue ribbon and a $300 prize—and millions of dollars worth of publicity. Some of the judges confessed they had no idea the work was AI-originated, but they said it wouldn’t have changed their votes.

    The media anointed Allen’s entry the first wholly AI-generated artwork to win an award, neglecting the fact that Bessie the cow also won first place in the bovine division at the same fair. Yes, cowboy, we’re a long way from the Venice Biennale. However, the story was deemed important enough to make it into The New York Times, Washington Post, and BBC News. 

    “A Pietist painting of an Artillery Art Magazine cover.” Image generated by DALL-E/OpenAI

    As the Times put it, “Users type a series of words in a message to Midjourney; the bot spits back an image seconds later.” Algorithms are used to recognize descriptive artistic patterns among millions of online images. The user can refine the images with further prompts and use of Photoshop. Allen’s winning image was indeed sophisticated and mysterious and some major art critics were duly impressed. A Washington Post art critic, Sebastian Smee, compared it to the work of Gustave Moreau, the 19th-century artist associated with the Symbolist movement.

    Midjourney and other AI programs have generated social media opprobrium with their dependence on bots to scrape the internet of art and other images (much of which is copyrighted) providing an instantly generated unique image or series of images. Allen received considerable hate and dislikes on social media. Some artists were appalled that their work was essentially pimped out by AI programs, but the resultant image rarely, if ever, relies on a copy of an individual artwork. 

    Nevertheless, it will only be a short time before some enterprising lawyer and his artist client file a test case, claiming copyright infringement based on substantial similarity. Of course, the AI “artist’s” defense of fair use will be based on the argument that the generated image was transformative of the original artist’s work.

    In reaction to the controversy, Allen was quoted in the Times as saying, “Art is dead, dude. It’s over. AI won. Humans lost.” Whoa, pardner—human-made art is more alive than ever. However, AI-generated art should be categorized as a hybrid creation made, not just by a human, but primarily by a machine. When Christie’s holds its first auction of AI art—likely not too long from now—full disclosure of the genesis of each AI artwork should be made. 

    As always in the art world, fakes and frauds will become a problem. The Big Eyes scheme is sure to arise, but instead of a flamboyant Walter Keane fronting for Margaret, his artist spouse, we are sure to encounter imposters attempting to hide their dependence on Midjourney or DALL-E 2, claiming to be the next Jeff Koons. Eventually, we may be unable to tell if it’s the real thing, or the ghost in the machine.

  • Superchief’s Super Party The Digital

    Superchief’s Super Party
    The Digital

    After parking on an ominous street, dodging detritus on the sidewalk and being ushered through the door by an equally ominous bouncer—we enter a sprawling fog-filled industrial space just south of DTLA. Loud music plays, neon flashes and the walls are literally covered floor to ceiling with digital can-
    vases     (essentially large televisions). Upon entrance a commotion erupts in the center of the space. The outline of a giant sphere hung from the trusses can be discerned through the mist. Art collectors in dress shirts retract to the edges of the gallery while several younger patrons advance with large sticks and subsequently begin to smash the artwork with a vigor only matched by a Rage Against the Machine mosh pit. Welcome to Superchief; let the party begin.

    Granted this may not be the art gallery to take your mother—if you are in search of adventure, are not a risk-adverse human, and have some inkling toward digital art on the blockchain—LA is home to the world’s first permanent NFT gallery. Before visiting, prepare yourself as you will leave with at minimum a slight buzz, a loud ringing in your ear, possibly a raunchy T-shirt, your first NFT artwork or even a black eye. I wouldn’t suggest wearing your Sunday white’s.

    The gallery has been a longtime staple in the art/party scene in NYC, Miami, LA and after a decade, they still go hard. Don’t get caught off guard, while the gallery may give the vibe of a rocker that has been on the road too many years, its provenance speaks for itself. Artists such as Swoon and epic partnerships with the likes of Christie’s Auction House, Scope Art Fair and OpenSea (the world’s largest NFT marketplace) are impossible to discount. Once again, Scope Art Fair has teamed up with Superchief as its official digital media partner for Miami Basel 2022. If you happen to notice the monumental 60-foot curated digital stage as you enter the fair—that is them. 

    Image courtesy of Superchief Gallery, Los Angeles.

    While Superchief was originally founded in Brooklyn circa 2012 by Edward Zipco and Bill Dunleavy, the focus on the digital began in 2016. The story told by co-founder Zipco may sound like that of many galleries at the beginning—long hours, little pay, nights spent sleeping in the space. As with many superheros’ origin stories, ultimate strength is earned from near-destruction. For the prophetically named “Superchief” this defining moment was in early 2020 when an explosion occurred in the building neighboring its original Los Angeles location. Fire/chaos ensued and while luckily no one in the gallery was injured, the damage to the building lead to the forced closure of this location. 

    Through COVID and a string of unforeseen events, NFTs stole the art world’s attention. The timing couldn’t be better and as if a phoenix rising from the literal ashes, Superchief returned after lockdown with a renewed vigor, an exhibition space of double the size and, as Zipco describes it—“a mission to help artists dream in web3.”

    Don’t think the excitement is over as in almost the next breath he speaks of a recently received compliment. The collector recounted—“I really enjoyed the vibe at the gallery, it was exciting and colorful, but on some level you could just tell it felt dangerous.” 

    For the ultimately authentic Superchief NFT Gallery this is part of the history, their pulse and not something they are willing to give up. Patrons: Just remember to keep your head on a swivel!

  • Beeple and Madonna: Material Girl in a Meta World The Digital

    Beeple and Madonna: Material Girl in a Meta World
    The Digital

    When we think about groundbreakers or early adopters, we think of the first, the biggest, the people that jump up and exemplify a movement. Some will stand the test of time, others will bring shock value in being the protagonists. Whether it be Bowie, Hendrix, Basquiat, Warhol—the list of these trailblazers is long. But wherein lies the common thread? Talent and timing inherently play a role but, I might scream—FORTUNE FAVORS THE BOLD. 

    For those of us who exist only in the tangible art world—the human that made us stand the hell up and pay attention to NFTs was the unassuming Beeple. Combine this subversive digital artist with the historical boundary-pushing Madonna, Queen of Pop. We may be left with a collection of NFTs that have the potential to be some of the most controversial feathers in either of their caps.

    For this three-part collaborative NFT video series titled “Mother of Creation,” Madonna uses her classic recipe of sexually explicit imagery combined with controversial content—only at an older age with some digital manipulation. This time the “Material Girl” jumps into the Immaterial World of meta space, fully exposing her digital self. This is no unassuming wardrobe malfunction—rather the full monty in meta. Madonna’s three avatars that make up the “Mother of Creation” series are created by manipulating a 3D body scan of her in all her sexagenarian glory. This technology can now recreate hyper detail within the context of meta space, with the closeups leaving nothing to the imagination.

    Mother of Nature, 2022; stills from NFT video artwork; courtesy of the artists.

    Each of Madonna’s avatars vary slightly, but the traumatic birthing message remains clear. In the first, “Mother of Nature,” a giant tree takes root and grows and blooms out of a closeup 3D model of her “vagina,” slowly panning away to show the avatar lying in a sterile white room being overseen by a creepy robotic arm. In “Mother of Evolution,” a more plastique/Barbie doll version of Madonna lies on the hood of a truck—straight out of Mad Max. As the post-apocalyptic scene rages in the background, monarch butterflies flutter out of her crotch. 

    In the final and darkest of the three videos, a silver-haired avatar—one which best represents the aging pop star’s most current state—has a multitude of blood-soaked robotic centipedes crawling from the exposed area between her legs. This last chapter of the NFT trilogy may very well be the most accurate foreshadowing of the dark AI future awaiting us.

    With all the proceeds from the NFTs series going to benefit charity—this is not a money-making endeavor for either Madonna or Beeple but seems to be a great way to show the world what a 60-something digitally enhanced vagina looks like. And all for a good cause.

  • NFTs Flood LA The Digital

    NFTs Flood LA
    The Digital

    NFTs are here, ushering in a new Golden Age in art. The flood of fiscal support into the NFT market has changed everything. This world has become very real and very serious, extremely fast. Investment firms are buying Degenerate Apes to flip! There’s a need to understand a new vocabulary, a new system of provenance, a new sales structure and the elimination of the historic gallery model.

    My new column,“The Digital,” will be a place for elucidating the morphing digital art space, exploring crypto and NFT trends, understanding new verbiage, reviewing existing/upcoming collections, speaking with artists/developers, and shouting out my ridiculous advice in this space. —Seth Hawkins

    As the rain poured down and invaded Los Angeles on a recent Monday, so did the self-proclaimed NFT degenerates. There were representatives from both big NFT blockchains: mutant apes, nuked apes, boogles, money boys, cets on creck, and—did I mention that Sir-Mix-Alot was performing at the Magic Eden kickoff party shilling his own “Bit Butts” NFTs. What a night it was—I like “Bit Butts” and cannot lie!

    The attendees for NFT|LA, one of the first major IRL NFT events, was a mixed bag to say the least. Furries and crypto investors in their early 20s had on thousand-dollar shades, nerdy unkempt dev teams were huddled around laptops while gray-bearded old-timers tried to not miss the boat.

    Six original NFT’s by Sir Mix-A-Lot for his project Bit Butts, 2022

    The current state of affairs began to come into focus as I watched the Magic Eden keynote panel opening night. It included founders of some blue-chip Solana collections; Best Buds, Thug Birdz, Degods and for fun why not throw rapper Waka Flocka Flame into the mix. These are some of the heaviest traded collections on Solana—all in business for less than a year. To put this into perspective, the Degods is just about to pass the $25 mil in secondary market sales and they are only just hitting the six-month mark. What does that mean?

    It exemplifies the fact that this space is so new and so rapidly changing that by the time this column has published, one of these collections may be out of favor. Even the whole Solana blockchain that these exist on is still said to be in beta. With much of the discourse at the conference being about NFT collections establishing and connecting communities, even noted musician and NFT enthusiast Steve Aoki was on stage vigorously yelling about how much comes from his online discord interactions.

    I question what we are creating. Are these communities or investments? Do we ride the rocket to the moon and hop off with fiscal liquidity, or do we diamond hand for the community, as gravity inevitably pulls prices back to Earth?

    Six original NFT’s by Sir Mix-A-Lot for his project Bit Butts, 2022

    Of the 20 blue-chip art collections that currently exist on Solana, will five still be around in a year’s time? How will this ecosystem change in the next two months as the world’s largest website for NFT secondary market sales—Open Sea—onboards the hottest new blockchain—Solana.  We are days or weeks away from something big with this merger, but I am no financial advisor, just an enthusiastic onlooker.

    When do you dip your toe in the pool? If you have taken the time to read this far, then you can invest $20 in crypto and feel like you vested in the community also. Invest a sushi dinner’s worth in an NFT if you are feeling adventurous. Get in the Game. Invest yourself. Show people the picture on your phone just like you would your firstborn.

    The Question is: How do you even buy an NFT and what the hell is a phantom wallet?

    Keep reading “The Digital.”

  • From Mortar To Metaverse CONTEMPORARY COMMERCE

    From Mortar To Metaverse
    CONTEMPORARY COMMERCE

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    Eth, bit, sol, meta, block chain, bored apes, crypto punks, kitty litter squad, non-fungible, minting, mining, tokenizing, gas fee, hot wallet, cold wallet, generative NFT, destructive NFT, candy machines, early adopters—yes this is English—just not the English of our youth or even the English of a few years ago. This is the contemporary language of commerce and the new verbiage for the art world to understand. If you don’t know what this means, start googling, because the ship has left the dock and you are waving goodbye as everyone else is already on the Open Sea.

    Even a goofy ape with a hipster hat from a derivative collection can get a cover shot these days. If you braved the Omicron variant to be at Art Basel, you know that major galleries are moving from brick and mortar to the metaverse. Artists are no longer producing works with classical materials such as paint, bronze and photography but rather with AI algorithims, generative layers and 3D models. Art editions have somehow ballooned from 3+2AP’s to a 5,000 unit drop. And guess what, they cost more for 1/5000 than 1/3.

    Crypto is no longer a speculative fiscal structure that exists only in the arena of the cyber elite, it is something that is bought and sold everyday—even by yours truly—on the coinbase app simply a cell phone thump away. The NFT world has brought a whole new type of collector into the speculative art world: a collector who is digitally wealthy, crypto-swole, and has very few places to spend that wealth.

    If you were one of the smart (more so lucky) ones that spent a couple hundred bucks and bought in at the start of Bitcoin or Ethereum, you are now sitting on a hot or cold wallet with many many more zeros behind the one. Why sit there looking at your imagined digital $ that’s going to fluctuate, why cash out and pay taxes? In classic Buffet strategy—diversify your portfolio. What that means is, buy a pesky penguin, get some generative NFTs from your favorite artist, or buy a soon-to-be-minted farting cat from the Kitty Litter Squad. It is as if we have stepped through a tiny hidden door in the back of the blue-chip art-world space and have now walked directly into Willy Wonka’s factory. All is possible: you just need to mint it.

    Online gallery of Damien Hirst’s “The Currency:” A collection of 10,000 unique NFTs that correspond with original artworks, which the collector can choose to exchange with the virtual NFT for after its acquisition.

    Much of the new pseudo-art that is taking over the NFT platform is being made by artists or collectives previously unknown to the general canon or common discourse—but does that matter? Sure, the art world elite (e.g., Damien Hirst) has a foothold in the NFT space, but what is a Beeple, a Bored Ape, or most importantly, what is generative art?

    To all of these questions, there is a simple answer: those of us entrenched in the world of art understand that the rules were thrown out long ago—why ask so many questions? We are not some old man yelling at the kids to get off our lawn. Art is about taking new ideas to the limit, breaking the rules, and creatively making it up as we go along—cut up a shark, paint a lily pad, cover yourself in ketchup and cut a giant finger off, or maybe an ear—bring on the chaos.

    The NFT world is no different; it just came out of left field and sucker-punched the traditional art world as COVID stole our focus. No one saw it coming—well maybe gamers, but the last two years were a perfect storm to launch the crypto-fueled NFT market. COVID, skyrocketing prices of digital coins, and the whole world locked in front of computers tinkering when they were supposed to be on a Zoom meeting. A Hollywood writer couldn’t have scripted this monumental change more perfectly. Regardless, we are here and it is not going away any time soon. (Even a goofy ape with a hipster hat from a derivative collection can get a cover shot these days.) So either find your digital footing or sit on the porch yelling at the kids.

    Honorary Bored Ape #19 by BoredApeYachtClub (BAYC): an NFT collection of 10,000 original Bored Ape NFTs.

    Those previously established/successful/traditional blue-chip artists will always have a seat at the table, but they are being moved from first class to coach. A new class of artist is in town and, interestingly enough, many have never been successful in the traditional market, yet their NFT collections “mint out” in a matter of minutes for a cool couple of million dollars. As the time of papacy-ruled art wanes, Gagosian has given way to pixelized NFT collections that sell for much more and don’t need locations in Beverly Hills, Paris and Park Avenue.

    Where will this end? It is currently boundless, with one of the paramount aspects to this revolution being that NFTs actually protect the artist. The wealthy have always been sheltered by their curated collections and set auction prices. The blockchain is the ultimate equalizer; true provenance and the smart contract is the one time in history when an artist can not only formally show that what they have created is original and unique, but can also collect royalties on secondary market sales. No longer is it only the whales that get whalier, our people—the creators—finally have protection in this new metaverse of art.

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  • Decoder Owning Art

    Decoder
    Owning Art

    Since the theme for this issue is “Private Property,” I assume someone besides me will be tackling non-fungible tokens (NFTs) and their sudden rise to collectibility—I’ll leave that to someone who can talk about them in some sort of intelligent, technical way and instead just talk about what NFTs are like.

    Depending how you look at it, they either smoothly continue (or emphasize the absurdity) of a practice that has been normal for half a century: buying entirely conceptual art—in particular, buying works of conceptual art that could be reproduced by any reasonably functional adult being paid minimum wage.

    I once heard a story on NPR about a middle-class collector who’d acquired an early Sol LeWitt for a few hundred dollars. The stunned host responded by saying he would kill (or was it die?) for that opportunity, which immediately begs the question: Why? Unless the plan is to sell it (in which case, why not just kill or die for the money it would bring instead?), you can have all there is to an early LeWitt wall drawing by googling “Sol LeWitt wall drawing,” picking your favorite set of 55-word instructions and pressing “print.” What did the host want exactly? Whatever it is, approximately the same thing is in an NFT.

    Now, one aspect of this kind of acquisition is it can claim to be a species of philanthropy: you’re not only supporting the artist to the tune of X dollars, you are, for the sake of their future, supporting the idea that they should be getting X dollars every time they do what they’re doing. On the flipside there is some form of bragging right—just as the Carnegies and the Mellons can say “As in Carnegie Mellon?” you can say you’re the one who bought the thing, and there are allegedly circles where this improves the quality of the parties you get invited to.

    These ways of owning have their uses, but not for me.

    My favorite piece of mine that I still have around the house is a mug. I didn’t make the mug—I didn’t even design it. It took very little thinking, really, in the ordinary sense, to get this mug to be. Some friends in the art business called me up and wanted a picture to use for their kid’s bar mitzvah, and they were very precise: We want blue and green and balloons; there has to be a breakdancer and everyone has to be cheering them on, in a video arcade. Since I liked them and their kid and I was not a smouldering psychopathic egotist from the 1960s, I passed up the opportunity to send back a long and scathing letter saying that this bar mitzvah frippery was beneath me—a true artist—and they should’ve known it, and that I was therefore severing all commercial ties. I drew it, liked drawing it, and promptly forgot I drew it. A month later I got a package with a mug with the bar mitzvah picture on it.

    A week or two after I put it on the shelf, a strange thing happened. I was drinking (as I so often do when in possession of a mug) and I looked down and realized this was a great mug. Really first-rate. Some excellent curatorial choices had been made: The outside, where my picture was printed, was white, like the paper, but the inside was that wonderful glossy dark blue you sometimes get in the tiles around the edge of swimming pools. It worked very well with all that blue and green I’d magic-markered on there. And the little figures standing on video game cabinets, forever at their party, and all so small and irregular (almost unreadable in industrial design terms—if you had proper Mickeys and Minnies on a mug, they’d be at least twice the size, parading properly around the cup). It was a nice, weird fun thing to drink from and I drank and I washed it, and forgot I had it, and a few days later remembered all over again.

    Since then I’ve gone through dozens of cycles of not remembering the mug and then being ambushed by its existence all over again “Oh yeah, the bar mitzvah—look at all those happy little guys.” That, as far as I’m concerned, is how owning art should work.