Hey thanks for taking the time to think about this, and for the support for the piece, even if you disagree with it in many places. Naturally I in turn disagree with a good chunk of the response, largely because I think my position on the role of artists in this has been misconstrued or exaggerated. Much of the above is devoted to saying that I force the brunt of my criticism on artists, yet I lay plenty of the blame for the conditions I’m critiquing at the feet of the collectors and the market structure more generally. That’s why I started the essay with the market dynamics, to set the stage for what was to follow and to emphasize that the issues here aren’t bound up in any one place. I talk about subpar work as a product of incentives created by the market. I don’t think glib, then, is a fair characterization of my treatment of artists’ complicity when I spend so much of the essay establishing these market preconditions. Artists aren’t blameless, nor do I put it all on them. I’ve released three generative art collections myself and I’m happy to reckon with the implications of my critique in my own practice. Linda says the same of herself. Below I'll respond to a handful of excerpts.
“But we’re missing the forest for the trees here, which is that generative art, and generative artists especially, cannot and should not be held at fault for the corrupted investment instincts of an undiscerning market.” Why? Why are we acting as if artists are these amoral, blameless agents? I’m an artist and I think it’s critical that I serve as a force for good in the world. And if artists have no responsibility, why not absolve collectors of such pressures as well? Should they be held responsible for simply wanting to make a buck, to provide livelihood to themselves and their families? There’s a tacit capitalistic fatalism here that’s quite seductive. If we're totally at the mercy of the system, this fantasy posing as realism goes, then we have no agency, and without agency we’re unburdened (by what has been) of the weight of responsibility. Yet we are capable of action, we are capable of choice. It’s hard and feels futile at times, but we can play a role in the way the world comes to be. I personally prefer to “rage rage”, as Dylan Thomas would have it. If I can’t convince others then so be it, but I’m going to do my best. And even if us artists are blameless, as your argument supposes, then we shouldn’t assume the amoral status of the work means we can’t critique it. If some artists are going to financially profit from what we seem to be agreeing here is in many instances “bad art”, that’s fine but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t call it bad art.
Elsewhere we read “But the market must be the exclusive target of our criticism.” What is the market? Are artists not a part of it? An interesting mechanism that’s illustrated here is the way in which markets serve as blame deferral devices. Everyone can shirk blame by pinning it on the market, but what is that really? Does it not consist, at least in part, of its parts? And even if it somehow lies outside of us, by actively participating in it in the ways it demands, aren’t we accepting it? Since when is our highest hope for artists that we make a bag anyway? If this is the end in itself then we are a rent-extractive class. We want success for artists precisely because we hope for them to aspire to the kinds of lofty aims I described in the original essay.
“Perhaps in totality, Esherick’s criticism holds weight, but I personally do not believe that artists have a categorical imperative to seek only the newest ideas, or revolutionize a larger movement, or, for that matter, turn away from a powerful financial wave upon which they have an opportunity to surf.” I also don’t think they should *only* do any of the above and I never said as much, but if none rise to this challenge then we are left with an impoverished art world indeed. That’s why I speak of the market as a whole as an ecosystem, and of the tendencies it draws out. In generative art they tend to tip it in a certain direction. I advocate for tipping back toward balance.
“Herein, the always-parasitic market found generative artistry a willing host. But all artistry, across mediums and styles, would be a willing host.” Not all artistry could be a willing host, so it isn’t. This is why I talked about at length about this specific market context being unique to generative art. In few other places can you create another thousand artworks out of thin air. And anyways to host this kind of market, we need to be willing to play host. This language frames us artists as just platforms for the market’s desires. What makes me any different from a Walmart if we’re mere vessels for the whims of capital? My collection Catalog (itself a generative collection!) looked at this idea in the context of generative art.
All of this also ignores that artists help shape the tastes of the collectors rather than simply reflecting them. It is a dynamic system, and having the temerity to introduce a new vision into the generative realm can reshape what artists and collectors alike see as possible. Fake It Till You Make It is proof of this. If we’re so gung-ho on protecting artists and making sure they get paid, then let’s look at all those left out of the conversation on account of the myopic focus on a certain flavor of generative art. Kowtowing to the preferences of collectors takes up the airspace and creates race to the bottom, attention economy-style dynamics. The essay was just as much saying “let’s look at the artists doing stuff differently out there” as it was telling those in the dominant wave to switch anything up.
Regarding this bit: ‘“It is assembly line art,” Esherick says. That may be true, but criticizing an assembly line should mean criticizing the corporation whom it enriches, not the operators themselves. Esherick does not really make that distinction.’ I feel the need to clear this up because this is just a misread of the metaphor. As I’m using it, the “corporation” you cite here that creates the assembly line is the artist. The assembly line itself is the algorithm/generative system, its operators the components of the code. So I guess I agree that we should critique the corporation whom it enriches, or at least be willing to pose the question. Cheek aside, I do discuss the role of collectors and corporate infrastructure (e.g. Art Blocks Engine) in supporting this process, though perhaps not at enough length for some. Driessens and Verstappen's piece "The Factory" serves as a meditation on the questions I'm trying to raise in using this metaphor.
To your point about the following quote: “Most everything conceptually and aesthetically interesting done in computer art was done well before the NFT wave.” I agree that I spoke too sweepingly and that “most everything” is a stretch. Make it just “most” and I’d stand by it, as well as by the subsequent “The bulk of what we’ve had of late…”
Lastly, your question on the relevance of criticism such as this: “Or maybe (and I mean this honestly), it makes criticism unnecessary in the first place. After all, who benefits from Esherick’s essay? Who benefits from mine? Do these texts change a single artist’s mind to mint or not to mint? Do they slow the market’s insatiable appetite? Do they influence the creation or delay of even one project? If they do…should they? Should I have that kind of power? Should Esherick? Should anyone?” Given the response I’ve had to the essay, I think these kinds of texts do clearly exert such influence, and that the dialogue has done good on the whole. There has been and can be a relief and vindication for people who feel strongarmed into holding tastes they don’t really believe yet have no “valid” line of protest that they can well articulate. I can’t tell you the number of artists and collectors, including plenty of those who til now have focused on generative art, who reached out to me following this essay to express their comfort in reading it. I’ve talked with many who feel called to a higher caliber of work after this. I know I myself do, if even just to live up to the ideals that I espouse. At its best this sort of discussion can inspire new ideas and throw down a gauntlet to challenge one another to great things. I certainly don’t find this futile.
Hey thanks for taking the time to think about this, and for the support for the piece, even if you disagree with it in many places. Naturally I in turn disagree with a good chunk of the response, largely because I think my position on the role of artists in this has been misconstrued or exaggerated. Much of the above is devoted to saying that I force the brunt of my criticism on artists, yet I lay plenty of the blame for the conditions I’m critiquing at the feet of the collectors and the market structure more generally. That’s why I started the essay with the market dynamics, to set the stage for what was to follow and to emphasize that the issues here aren’t bound up in any one place. I talk about subpar work as a product of incentives created by the market. I don’t think glib, then, is a fair characterization of my treatment of artists’ complicity when I spend so much of the essay establishing these market preconditions. Artists aren’t blameless, nor do I put it all on them. I’ve released three generative art collections myself and I’m happy to reckon with the implications of my critique in my own practice. Linda says the same of herself. Below I'll respond to a handful of excerpts.
“But we’re missing the forest for the trees here, which is that generative art, and generative artists especially, cannot and should not be held at fault for the corrupted investment instincts of an undiscerning market.” Why? Why are we acting as if artists are these amoral, blameless agents? I’m an artist and I think it’s critical that I serve as a force for good in the world. And if artists have no responsibility, why not absolve collectors of such pressures as well? Should they be held responsible for simply wanting to make a buck, to provide livelihood to themselves and their families? There’s a tacit capitalistic fatalism here that’s quite seductive. If we're totally at the mercy of the system, this fantasy posing as realism goes, then we have no agency, and without agency we’re unburdened (by what has been) of the weight of responsibility. Yet we are capable of action, we are capable of choice. It’s hard and feels futile at times, but we can play a role in the way the world comes to be. I personally prefer to “rage rage”, as Dylan Thomas would have it. If I can’t convince others then so be it, but I’m going to do my best. And even if us artists are blameless, as your argument supposes, then we shouldn’t assume the amoral status of the work means we can’t critique it. If some artists are going to financially profit from what we seem to be agreeing here is in many instances “bad art”, that’s fine but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t call it bad art.
Elsewhere we read “But the market must be the exclusive target of our criticism.” What is the market? Are artists not a part of it? An interesting mechanism that’s illustrated here is the way in which markets serve as blame deferral devices. Everyone can shirk blame by pinning it on the market, but what is that really? Does it not consist, at least in part, of its parts? And even if it somehow lies outside of us, by actively participating in it in the ways it demands, aren’t we accepting it? Since when is our highest hope for artists that we make a bag anyway? If this is the end in itself then we are a rent-extractive class. We want success for artists precisely because we hope for them to aspire to the kinds of lofty aims I described in the original essay.
“Perhaps in totality, Esherick’s criticism holds weight, but I personally do not believe that artists have a categorical imperative to seek only the newest ideas, or revolutionize a larger movement, or, for that matter, turn away from a powerful financial wave upon which they have an opportunity to surf.” I also don’t think they should *only* do any of the above and I never said as much, but if none rise to this challenge then we are left with an impoverished art world indeed. That’s why I speak of the market as a whole as an ecosystem, and of the tendencies it draws out. In generative art they tend to tip it in a certain direction. I advocate for tipping back toward balance.
“Herein, the always-parasitic market found generative artistry a willing host. But all artistry, across mediums and styles, would be a willing host.” Not all artistry could be a willing host, so it isn’t. This is why I talked about at length about this specific market context being unique to generative art. In few other places can you create another thousand artworks out of thin air. And anyways to host this kind of market, we need to be willing to play host. This language frames us artists as just platforms for the market’s desires. What makes me any different from a Walmart if we’re mere vessels for the whims of capital? My collection Catalog (itself a generative collection!) looked at this idea in the context of generative art.
All of this also ignores that artists help shape the tastes of the collectors rather than simply reflecting them. It is a dynamic system, and having the temerity to introduce a new vision into the generative realm can reshape what artists and collectors alike see as possible. Fake It Till You Make It is proof of this. If we’re so gung-ho on protecting artists and making sure they get paid, then let’s look at all those left out of the conversation on account of the myopic focus on a certain flavor of generative art. Kowtowing to the preferences of collectors takes up the airspace and creates race to the bottom, attention economy-style dynamics. The essay was just as much saying “let’s look at the artists doing stuff differently out there” as it was telling those in the dominant wave to switch anything up.
Regarding this bit: ‘“It is assembly line art,” Esherick says. That may be true, but criticizing an assembly line should mean criticizing the corporation whom it enriches, not the operators themselves. Esherick does not really make that distinction.’ I feel the need to clear this up because this is just a misread of the metaphor. As I’m using it, the “corporation” you cite here that creates the assembly line is the artist. The assembly line itself is the algorithm/generative system, its operators the components of the code. So I guess I agree that we should critique the corporation whom it enriches, or at least be willing to pose the question. Cheek aside, I do discuss the role of collectors and corporate infrastructure (e.g. Art Blocks Engine) in supporting this process, though perhaps not at enough length for some. Driessens and Verstappen's piece "The Factory" serves as a meditation on the questions I'm trying to raise in using this metaphor.
To your point about the following quote: “Most everything conceptually and aesthetically interesting done in computer art was done well before the NFT wave.” I agree that I spoke too sweepingly and that “most everything” is a stretch. Make it just “most” and I’d stand by it, as well as by the subsequent “The bulk of what we’ve had of late…”
Lastly, your question on the relevance of criticism such as this: “Or maybe (and I mean this honestly), it makes criticism unnecessary in the first place. After all, who benefits from Esherick’s essay? Who benefits from mine? Do these texts change a single artist’s mind to mint or not to mint? Do they slow the market’s insatiable appetite? Do they influence the creation or delay of even one project? If they do…should they? Should I have that kind of power? Should Esherick? Should anyone?” Given the response I’ve had to the essay, I think these kinds of texts do clearly exert such influence, and that the dialogue has done good on the whole. There has been and can be a relief and vindication for people who feel strongarmed into holding tastes they don’t really believe yet have no “valid” line of protest that they can well articulate. I can’t tell you the number of artists and collectors, including plenty of those who til now have focused on generative art, who reached out to me following this essay to express their comfort in reading it. I’ve talked with many who feel called to a higher caliber of work after this. I know I myself do, if even just to live up to the ideals that I espouse. At its best this sort of discussion can inspire new ideas and throw down a gauntlet to challenge one another to great things. I certainly don’t find this futile.