The Emergent Aesthetic of Ceramics and AI
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Coming up in the world of fine arts, I was immersed in the tactile world of ceramics. My mentor in this area was the most excellent Ceal Sturdevant, a gifted artist and teacher who ignited my passion for the fluidity of the female form. Her fiery spirit and the organic distortions of clay informed my early artistry, echoing the wooden sculptures of my father’s pieces that adorned our home. This connection to organic forms persisted as my art transitioned to the digital realm, where I found a new canvas in the virtual liquid landscapes crafted by AI.
The AI’s early attempts at rendering fluid forms provided a rough but intriguing foundation. It was upon this digital canvas that I positioned my 3D figures, sculpted with the precision of DAZ’s rigs. The final composition, a blend of my digital sculpture and AI’s liquid forms, wasn’t perfect, yet it represented a compelling dialogue between human creativity and algorithmic interpretation—a testament to the evolving partnership between artist and machine.
While the composition required refinement, the process was an exploration of efficiency and collaboration. My figures, emerging from the AI’s liquid tower, were a modern echo of my formative years in clay. This synergy of mediums—clay, wood, pixels, and data—speaks to the heart of my artistic journey, a continuous thread that weaves through the essence of creation, regardless of the form it takes.
To the Left: A rudimentary attempt to comp on top of the fluid lanuguage of the AI using 3D assets.
Stand in front of a Caravaggio and tell me you don’t feel, even slightly, as if in the presence of GOD.
His art has long been fused into the core of my artistic identity, though I frustratingly can’t recall the first moment his paintings struck me.
If I were to console my sentiment-obsessed mind, I’d say his works could have always been there, like a floating, ever-present buffet of artistic mastery for little Lauren to eventually appreciate. It wasn’t until growing older and becoming acquainted with the depths of heartbreak and the peaks of love, that I fully grasped the rebellious narratives and evocative chiaroscuro that marked his pieces.
Stand in front of a Caravaggio and tell me you don’t feel, even slightly, as if in the presence of GOD.
His art has long been fused into the core of my artistic identity, though I frustratingly can’t recall the first moment his paintings struck me.
If I were to console my sentiment-obsessed mind, I’d say his works could have always been there, like a floating, ever-present buffet of artistic mastery for little Lauren to eventually appreciate. It wasn’t until growing older and becoming acquainted with the depths of heartbreak and the peaks of love, that I fully grasped the rebellious narratives and evocative chiaroscuro that marked his pieces.
