A juxtaposition

Two seemigly unrelated experiences create a point of telling convergence

I haven’t posted here in quite some time. This site was always meant to be an alter-ego alternative for me, a respite from the very time-consuming work involved in producing the primary sister site, which has become all-consuming. I have been busy and life manages to interfere with my intentions, but two things happened this past week that are stuck in my thoughts.

I happened to find Dave Grusin's Night-Lines album, buried deep in my CD collection, not listened to for probably 20 years. Produced digitally in 1984, early in the digital era, it had 10 tracks, 6 written by Grusin (including the theme to the TV show St. Elsewhere). All tracks featured synths, but the pieces he wrote exclusively featured only synths and drum machine, electric, and (occasional) acoustic piano. I assume he produced this album as an exploration of the new digital musical devices and recording technologies.

I quickly noticed how dated, artificial and mechanical those particular tracks sounded despite some having really good melody lines.¹ Those all-synth and programmed tracks sounded dreadful—the word "dreck" came to mind— because they are instantly recognizable as not being "real" or "right," something I often feel when listening to certain music and production values from the ‘80s (which I was saturated with as I training in recording engineering in 1990). I know some will think I am being overly harsh, especially if you see ratings online, mostly 5-star, and reviews saying "Grusin at his best." Really? If this album had been done with musicians and more non-digital instruments—digital used only for accents—this album would have been much better. But as I said, it was probably an experiment…everybody was “doing it” at the time.

Listening to it in today's musical environment, most of it sounded like something AI would create. He (and friends) have done much better stuff with a better instrument mix. This is arguably his best (It’s over 6 mins long, has some quiet parts, don’t quit early).²

When I wake up each morning my mailboxes contain messages from selected sites about the tech of AI as well as selected content producers I have chosen to "follow" (i.e., monitor) on specific platforms (even those who think they have blocked me) featuring, promoting, and gushing about their AI-generated imagery and production systems they think are so awesome, deluding themselves and others into thinking their images are on the precipice of being so “realistic” that they will, any day now, be indistinguishable from the real thing. This past week, there were some new generative product updates and releases, so there was a flurry of new activity in my mailboxes. That means there was more for me to look at and monitor.

I don't want to look at those "art" sites. The stuff produced is 99.99% awful, unnatural, 100% forgettable, cartoonish dreck. I don't want to spend one second more than necessary viewing, which I do in order to identify the obvious flaws in their thinking and their imagery, make notes or index them for later reference, and disgorge the experience from my mind as quickly as possible.³

But I must deal with IT. IT encapsulates the reasons why the main project, Aigitated.com, exists, which is why I need to monitor it. This is part of my daily, all-consuming research routine.

That’s primarily why I have not been out shooting for over a year and a half. My backpacks and equipment bags have been ready to go. I have a new camera I’ve barely used and a brand new, top-of-the-product-line ($$$) lens I have taken out of the box and tested indoors just enough to ensure it survived shipping with no problems. It hasn't been touched since. Over this period, I’ve had a few photo projects in mind that require planning. One is complex and lengthy enough I can't just plan it in my head, but I need to write out a diagram so I can keep track of the steps involved. It will require a reconnoitering trip or two before I actually get down to the complex execution. If I ever find the time…

These kinds of field projects are serious work requiring planning, setting up, waiting for the light, serial shooting, followed by culling and substantial post-processing time. It will be an endeavor that will involve being immersed in the real world, dealing with real situations, real problems, real disappointments because the weather isn't cooperating, or something comes up and I can't get out as planned, or any number of things that are potential pitfalls and impediments. And if I screw up any step along the way, I have to start all over again. But when I'm done, if I succeed, I will have set and met a personal challenge, something I will take pride in achieving, knowing how much work was involved, even if nobody else ever does.

It's about time and place, "seeing" and thought processes about the technical and aesthetic aspects…all to create the final images...all genuine, all real. I miss the cold or the sweat, the dirt on the knees and elbows, mud on my shoes, my aching back, the mosquito bites I have to let happen because I‘m holding a camera position, and the ticks I flicked off or had to pull later in the shower. All this naturally comes with the territory. I am amazed by the specific shooting memories that come back when I am viewing my portfolio, even years later. It's hard to top a good day afield.

As I have said elsewhere many times before, first and foremost, I shoot for me. I miss being out and about, the quiet...(usually) the solitude. I want to get back to it …getting back to being LensAfield™…out exploring, seeing, contemplating, visiting new locations and revisiting old ones at different times with "new eyes." Getting “back into it” would be better for my health than sitting at my desk for hours on end researching, endlessly drafting, and occasionally posting to my primary project. But that is more important to me right now. It’s the primary reason why I haven’t been out shooting. It takes up all my free time. And then some.

Technology (a human creation and potential instrument of its destruction) is taking humanity further and further away from the actual natural world, and itself. The ignorance and stupidity that results from that sad fact is staggering.

Yes, it’s a commercial, but the final scene, while an obvious joke, is likely a mirror of truth; otherwise, it would not work in the spot. More and more people are becoming less and less connected to and knowledgeable of the basics of the natural world. These “artists,” attempting to replicate a figment of reality—often alleged to be the subjects — sit at their desks trying to create reality that’s somewhere outside their door. They think that by “engineering” with “photographic prompts,” they're creating something amazing. Do you want to see amazing?  Come with me while I go outside and plan a project that involves going to real locations with real life and death cycles and consequences. Real reality.

In the world of AI-generated imagery, the holy grail appears to be the attainment of their images being undetectable from photographs. I keep asking, “Why?,” and get no or nonsensical answers. I get that it’s a challenge (as were the new digital toys Grusin used in his album). The delusional idea that this is somehow “democratizing” art is an ignorant corruption of that concept. For the sake of argument, say the goal is achieved—where the image looks indistinguishable from a photograph—what’s the point and what’s next on your agenda, keeping in mind what was created is not “real.” You do get that, right? The bigger question is: Will everybody else?

Just as I instantly recognized the unreality of techno-mechanical digital music, I sensed the same instant disconnect when I saw AI-generated images. I am amazed that the people who make them are apparently oblivious to just how instantly obvious and easy AI-generative imagery is to detect. I can only surmise that they can’t because they lack an innate sense of what is real and what it looks like. You can’t really know what you haven’t experienced. And you photographers who don’t know how to pull back on the editing, you are converting the photographic process to digital dreck, indistinguishable from the AI-generated dreck. You do get that, right?

It’s the aesthetic! It's nearly instantly perceived and recognized as unnatural, unsettling, and “wrong” because it is. Any sense of novelty wears off very quickly, and like the techno-musical crap of the '80s, won’t age well and (hopefully) be but a blip in art history. They sit at their desk, creating crap from ideas as prompts that they, and their AI, don't know and understand, so they can only attempt to mimic poorly.

Reality can't be created with prompts and programming. They are chasing reality, a very real impossibility, something beyond their grasp.

These observations from last week point to fundamental issues of the main project. It’s time to get back to it…four posts in the works…, and there are reasons why they are taking so long…there will be angst and agitation once posted as I will be challenging some deeply ingrained concepts, beliefs, and histories.

1. Three tracks had vocals, including easily the best track on the album, Between Old and New York, featuring Phoebe Snow (with a transition that should be required listening for aspiring jazz and cabaret vocalists). The vocals, needing "space" in the mix, subdued the impact of all the synths and drum machine to an (almost) enjoyable level.

2. And if the unreality of the multitrack studio production process bothers you, there is a good ensemble live-in-studio video on that page.

3. I notice how much of this imagery is popping up as masthead and title images of most post listings I see across the web. And yes, I've quickly produced a few images for very limited use in a few of my posts, only because I need an image I can't possibly create any other way. I don't want or try to make them look real. They are representations of intellectually conceived but impossible caricatures that should, and do, look the part.