Artificial intelligence (AI), however nebulous and dynamic its definition, separates the creator (the algorithm) from the creative (the human at the terminal) and blurs the line between preeminent artist and pretentious arse.
By satirizing, manipulating, and penning commentary about these classic works, are we witty or effete, extending the reach of these masters or cheapening and diminishing their contributions?
Is the polysyllabic discourse in this curation statement itself a parody-esque derision of an art history class I consumed at an elite university nearly 20 years ago or profound reflection on the intersection of art and technology? Does it matter?
Let's review the gallery!
"Starry Night Owls"
The oft-depicted bar scene is illuminated by Van Gogh’s celestial orbs, as the night owls assert that they are, separately and in tandem, a hoot.
The screeching sounds of those nocturnal avians stands in contrast to the sounds the auricularly-impaired artist could never perceive. The coloration begets the question of who lights up the night, the fixtures on the ceiling or the seats?
"The Persistence of Dali’s Llama"
The llama, both surreal and surfeit of color, ponders its place among the scape upon which it stands. Is this Dali’s llama or the Dali Lama? Does it matter?
Do these even differ in the ethereal realms in which space, time, and meaning melt into one like some insubstantial clock?
"Whistler’s Mother-in-law"
Art and literature alike maintain their fascination with the torments, nay, the malevolence of the supervillian known as “the mother-in-law. Whistler manipulates this trope.
The viewer must consider whether this mother is softened by her wink and a smile or cackling with schemes of passive-aggressive horror. The son-in-law, observed by a scowl that represents broader society, is left only to play along, leaving us to wonder what motives he infers.
"Water Lilliputians"
Most reputable scholars of impressionistic art agree that Claude Monet never watched David the Gnome on Nickelodeon in the 90s.
Nonetheless, this depiction connotes the eternal, ubiquitous human struggle to keep one’s head above water, to remain afloat amidst the opacity lurking below.
"Transylvanian Gothic"
Dark mansions are the place to be. Blood-drinking is the life for me.
While farms and pastoral scenes evoke growth, life, and birth, these pallid figures suggest a ghoulish, grave, eerieness that underscores the bucolic, agrarian environs we might otherwise expect. Is that pitchfork intended for hay or souls?
"A Sunday Afternoon in Seurat Race"
Modern life’s frenetic pace finds a rare respite on Sundays, which now, are consumed by the imagery of the rat race from which one is never truly able to escape.
The tranquility of an afternoon in the park is torn asunder by unwanted guests at the picnic. Those remaining have no choice but to ignore, endure, and find pleasure in this sullied sanctuary.
"Nightly Rembrandt Sleep"
This man looks, bleary, weary, addled, horrified by the elusive nature of one’s nightly respite.
In the vein of Dutch masters depicting the darker, less-romanticized elements of the human experience, this poor man evokes the night that never comes, then comes far too soon.
"Scream & Munch Burgers"
The primal fear evoked by Munch’s late-19th century masterpiece is now illuminated and elucidated by a similarly primal urge - hunger.
The protagonist, upon a bridge suggestive of a connection between past and present, illustrates what remains timeless - the urge to wolf down a burger.
(Follow for more parodies, essays, and AI-fun! And thank you to @aestudiola and their brilliant data scientist, @fabioperez!)
You can read the unrolled version of this thread here: typefully.com/Evan_Coop/4BY3IxZ