Category Archives: Current Exhibition

Bending the Binary, and Our Perception of History

What We Do After from August 28 to September 30, 2023, at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Rachel Schmid-James

When Brian Van Camerik began the project Homosocial, a collection of old photographs showing intimacy amongst same sex couples from the past in 2017, it could not have come at a better time. With President Donald Trump beginning his reign of terror on queer people across the country, it seemed very difficult to find hope and joy in queerness. For many young queer people, being different can feel isolating, and due to crises such as the AIDS epidemic leading to fewer older queer people, they have less elders to guide them. With Homosocial, Van Camerik shows that queer love and joy has always been around- even in times of great hardship. As described on the project’s website, “these photographs span decades and all depict same-gendered couples of men, women, and everyone in between displaying intimacy towards one another.” Throughout the series, multiple pairs are seen as described; some with arms around one another, others with hands clasped. However, what stood out to me is that none of the photographs feature the couples kissing. This adds to the power of the pieces. Queer love was forbidden in most societies in the past, and public displays of it could lead to detainment, violence, death, and/or ostracism. Many of these couples no doubt had to hide their love for each other, though that does not make these small moments captured any less romantic. It adds a deep layer of nuance, and calls attention to a hard truth: public romance is treated as a privilege.

Homosocial, Processing Gender Aspirations (2022), Silver gelatin print, paper, ink.

Throughout the run of the Stamp Gallery exhibit What We Do After, the piece Processing Gender Aspirations from Homosocial has always stood out to me. Although small in dimension and seemingly simple in composition, the depth within the artwork and the project itself makes a deep impact. On a background reminiscent of rippling water flecked through with gold, a black and white photograph is centered. The photograph shows a child dressed in a uniform-like outfit complete with Mary Jane shoes. The child’s gender is not obvious, nor is it specified by artist Brian Van Camerik. Two paired sets of zig zagged lines attach the photo to three simple words, creating the phrase “bending the binary.” As explained by Van Camerik in an Instagram post for the piece, 

I use microprocessing technology as a visual metaphor to illustrate how the individuals in these photographs have connected—the same way that microchips are connected on a circuit board… As a non-binary artist, I am presenting someone I wish to emulate. And while aspirational, this piece is also transgressive. Microprocessing technology operates in binary code but somehow the child thrives within this system and defies the gender binary to boot.

 Processing Gender Aspirations is one of the few pieces in the Homosocial project that features only one figure, and one who also does not fit traditional ideas of the gender binary. As Van Camerik explains above, the child in this piece reflects a quiet rebellion, existing in a normal life as a person who “bends the binary.”

More than anything though, this entire series represents something that was as important back then as it is now, that queer people are normal. The poses in the photographs are no different from any photograph you may see of a cisgendered or heterosexual couple, pushing against the idea that queer people are dangerous or deviant. Queer people love and live just like anyone else does, something important to represent especially with all the anti-gay and anti-transgender legislation popping up all over the country. Joy is essential to change, something expressed through the Homosocial collection as well as the current CAPP exhibit at the Stamp Gallery. At the very bottom of the Homosocial website, a dedication can be found, reading “For the individuals who were lost, silenced, or hurt because of whom they loved.” Remembering the faces of those who came before in the struggle for LGBTQ rights and their joy in the face of adversity can help us find our way and begin to build a better life for all people. 

Homosocial’s work is included in What We Do After at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from August 28 to September 30, 2023.

The clock strikes Infertile:  Gabriela Vainsencher’s Hourglass

What We Do After from August 28 to September 30, 2023 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Reshma Jasmin

*Note: this post refers to womanhood and motherhood in a cis-normative manner due to the organ-centric focus of aging*

In the past three months, my father has brought up the topic of marriage, babies, and my biological clock three times—I am a 21-year-old college student. He likened my ova as the fruits of a mango tree: after it reaches its fruit bearing age, the best mangoes are those produced in the first three years. Ironically, I have endometriosis, so the question of fertility is up in the air.

Gabriela Vainsencher’s Hourglass emanates this anxiety, by creating the anatomy of a cervix in the shape of an hourglass, with menstrual blood slipping through the cervix like sand. But Vainsencher’s experience differs from mine, which makes sense as she is 20 years older, an established artist, and a mother. She is also a cis-woman who went through pregnancy and labor for her own biological daughter, and she depicts womanhood and motherhood within the realm of her personal experience. So the impending midnight strike of a biological clock means something entirely different for her than it does for me. 

Gabriela Vainsencher, Mom, 2021. Porcelain. 8 x 12 feet

Most of Vainsencher’s recent work focuses on the experiences of motherhood, notably Mom (2021) (pictured above). She describes the piece as “…a self-portrait inspired by living through the covid-19 pandemic, which started when my daughter was one year old. For over a year I cared for her, worked from home, and couldn’t get to my studio” (sourced from artist’s website). The large porcelain piece depicts a snake-like figure of arms and breasts doing various motherly tasks. The breasts are arguably what makes the biggest impact. Their literal function is to provide milk, and whether mothers use formula or breastmilk, the symbolism still stands: motherhood is allowing your nutrients to be sucked out of you, or in more palatable terms, giving up yourself for your child. While all the arms are occupied with various motherly tasks like cooking, shopping, cleaning, carrying a child, etc., there are just as many  breasts as there are arms, even though breasts only serve one main function in motherhood. Although there is also the long haired head at one end of the figure and the title to distinguish that the figure is a woman, a mother, the abundance of breasts hint at what else society demands of mothers: women who maintain their role as pretty sexual objects.

Mother Figure Series Sculptures (2021-ongoing) Porcelain, stoneware, underglaze, etc.

Vainsencher’s Mother Figure Series Sculptures (pictured above) depicts worried mothers, pregnant bellies, female anatomy, and the looming biological clock. The stretched, protruding bellies and the folds of skin on the backs of each torso show the toll of pregnancy on the body. The sagging breast depicts the loss of conventional beauty and youth that comes with age and motherhood. The key-chain earrings on oversized ears suggests that mothers are always in motion, always thinking about their children’s needs and schedules.

Gabriela Vainsencher, Hourglass, 2023. Porcelain, underglaze, glaze, acrylic

Upon seeing Gabriella Vainsencher’s Hourglass (pictured above), my first thought was, “How is this mounted on the wall?” Granted, I was watching the early stages of its installation in the Stamp Gallery, and the piece is made of porcelain and glaze, so it seemed a bit delicate to be held up the way that it is (on two screws drilled through the porcelain). In my surprise at how securely the piece was mounted, I realized that my assumption about the fragility and “weakness” of the porcelain was similar to the societal perception of women as the “weaker sex.” But the curved lines of the stretchy maternity pants on the conflated pregnant bellies from Vainsencher’s Mother Figure Series Sculptures and the bulges with the same curved lines tell a different story: they resemble striated muscles, signifying the strength written into a mother’s body.

The muscle-like bulges also create the hourglass shape, and lead the eye to the center of the piece, the cervix. The transition from the warm, cozy golden brown of the uterus to the dark dried period blood of the vaginal canal resembles the passage of time and a movement from comfort to discomfort. This gradient coupled with the rock-like shapes in the two halves of the hourglass shape depict the pain of aging; each period brings one closer to menopause, and the hourglass figure of a conventionally beautiful woman is also lost with time. Simply put, in our culture, old women are not pretty. The biological clock is a term coined by men to describe how a woman’s fertility is headed towards the precarious cliff of the age of 30 and later at menopause, but it also describes the anxieties of women where their worth and standing in society hangs in the balance of their beauty and fertility. 

The rock-like forms passing through the hourglass resonate with me, as periods and ovulation involve immense pain due to endometriosis. And, despite not being a mother, nor subscribing entirely to the identity of woman, nor intending to experience pregnancy and have a biological child; the fear of losing fertility and youth translating to the loss of beauty and worth is an anxiety I share in my own experience. With Hourglass, Vainsencher depicts the universal fear of aging, unique to those who identify as women and have female sex organs, as being built into our bodies as a ticking biological clock, a constant reminder of our fears and strength and worth. 

Gabriela Vainsencher’s work is included in What We Do After at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from August 28 to September 30, 2023. 

For more information on Gabriela Vainsencher visit https://gabrielavainsencher.com/

For more information on What We Do After, and related events, visit https://stamp.umd.edu/centers/stamp_gallery

For more information about the Contemporary Art Purchasing Program (CAPP) visit: https://stamp.umd.edu/centers/stamp_gallery/contemporary_art_collection

Together: A Blackness of Multitudes

What We Do After from August 28 to September 30, 2023, at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Trinitee Tatum

There is hardly a passerby that is not entranced by Megan Lewis’ Together. The regal size and bold color palette beckons onlookers to step into the striking world of Lewis’ portrait, where she grapples with her varied emotions and experiences as a Black woman. Viewers are encouraged to discover the multiplicity of Blackness alongside Lewis.

Megan Lewis, Together (2021), Oil and acrylic on canvas.

The painting’s title, Together, speaks to community empowerment through inclusion. The art industry has been historically exclusive in its subject matter and artists. Many artists of color struggle with the industry’s tokenization and exploitation of their image. Through Together, Lewis calls for equal opportunity to create art without subjugation to these hardships. She reclaims her own narrative and image that has historically been defined for her, for Black people. 

Blackness alone is enough to be extraordinary, to be striking. But Lewis does not stop at this in her work. She situates Blackness within the historically white context of portraiture, where subjects are presented in a predictable manner, with robes of satin and velvet. They are noblemen and women, lords and ladies, those whose wealth and power is reflected in their clothing. In Together, Lewis’ subject contrasts this convention in a striking yellow shirt with dynamic red circles and true blue bottoms. The subject, positioned in a typical manner– straight back, outward glaze, delicately folded hand–is anything but ordinary, with the hands painted in bubblegum pink with teal green nails. Lewis’ choice to depict hands in this manner highlights the sitter’s face as the sole literal representation of Blackness. The subject’s face, and more specifically her eyes, draws viewers into her inner being beyond her skin color. If eyes are the window to the soul, then Lewis’ technicolored portrait is the window into hers.

Together demonstrates to the audience that Blackness is not black. It’s pink and orange with a dash of blue and a swipe of red. Her strokes challenge notions that Blackness is monolithic, homogeneous. She draws Blackness out of the shadows of art history and into the light. Her strategic use of colors, including the contrasting orange background with blue leaves that frame the subject, is perhaps an assertion of her knowledge of art and color theory. Orange and blue are complementary colors on the color wheel and enhance each other’s intensity when juxtaposed. Lewis’ use of both acrylic and oil paint speaks to her mastery of both mediums. Artists of color are consistently invalidated and questioned on their knowledge and application of art history, theory, and practice. Through Together, Lewis shuts down any lingering questions about her abilities as an impactful and informative artist. 

Megan Lewis’ work is included in What We Do After at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from August 28 to September 30, 2023. 

Unpacking Climate Anxieties With A Dinosaur

What We Do After from August 28th to September 30th, 2023, at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Ellen Zhang

Among the various pieces on display in the Gallery’s latest exhibition What We Do After, I find myself especially captivated by Rachel Garber Cole’s Questions for a Dinosaur. This body of work consists of a 9-minute video in which Cole role-plays various personas while asking an unresponsive dinosaur a series of questions. Accompanying this video are 52 digital and silkscreen prints of the artist posed as the dinosaur.

Rachel Garber Cole, Questions for a Dinosaur (2017/2020), 9-minute video.

The reason why What We Do After resonates so deeply with me is the way in which Cole poses her questions in the video. They are short, blunt, and disconnected in a way that frames the questions as a series of inquisitive tangents. It is slightly chaotic and, because of this, extremely relatable. As I grow older, the list of questions in the back of my mind piles on in a similar manner: How do I file taxes? What career path is the best fit for me? Is it time to be fiscally responsible and stop spending money on coffee? How can I advocate for the political issues that I am passionate about? Like Cole’s questions, these internal thoughts have no rhyme or reason. Instead, they stay nestled within my mind and exist in a somewhat arbitrary arrangement, lacking structure and order. 

While there is little flow between each of Cole’s questions, there is a common theme that all of her questions touch on directly or indirectly: mass extinction triggered by climate change. Some of her questions that are presented on the digital prints, such as, “Are we currently living through a mass extinction?”, allude to the increasing occurrences of life-threatening climate disasters. In other words, are these wildfires, droughts, floods, and deterioration of air quality a collective indication of us living through a mass extinction? Other questions like “How powerless am I?” probe the level of control and responsibility an individual has in mitigating the impacts of climate change.

Cole’s use of unorganized questions accurately reflects unspoken fears about climate change. By vocalizing these overwhelming questions in a way similar to how we internally think about them, she encourages the audience to discuss fears that feel too terrifying to bring up openly. 

In the video, Cole is also seen playing different personas as she asks questions to a nonreactive dinosaur. It’s clear why the artist has selected a dinosaur, of all things, to ask; as an extinct species, they are experts in the matter. Additionally, incorporating a silent dinosaur makes the topic of mass extinction a little less frightening. There is a clear dichotomy between the profound nature of Cole’s questions and the funny-looking dinosaur, thus making the topic of extinction and climate change more approachable. Likewise, on the surface, Cole’s different personas – girl scout, housewife, meteorologist, and more – are certainly humorous and captivating. However, the multiplicity of identities represented also reveals how climate change and extinction are shared worries. She breaks down barriers of entry to conversations surrounding climate-induced mass extinction by reassuring individuals that they are not alone in their anxieties. 

Cole’s Questions for a Dinosaur is certainly a new take on expressing the impending doom of climate change through artwork. Rather than using jarring and fear-mongering pictures, she opts to captivate the audience’s attention through humor, without undermining the urgent and dire nature of climate change. The ability to balance the two is what I find so fascinating about Questions for a Dinosaur. Through serious but playfully staged questions, Cole transforms the Gallery into a welcoming space for raw and unfiltered dialogue on climate change. 

Rachel Garber Cole’s work is included in What We Do After at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from August 28 to September 30, 2023. 

Mentorship Behind the Making of The Royal Blue Series (and more from the series)

What We Do After from August 28 to October 6, 2023 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Isabella Chilcoat

“Life is about give and give, not give and take.”

Beverly Price
(Beverly Price, conversation between the artist and the author on 9/12/2023).

There’s something about Beverly Price’s Royal Blue Series that takes the photographs beyond the wall. Judging from the insights Price shared this past February, during the CAPP cohort’s visit to the community focused artist residency program, the Nicholson Project, as well as recent discussions we’ve had, it is clear that the Royal Blue Series is significant for its impact on the subjects and the awareness it draws to DC neighborhoods. 

Born and raised in Washington, D.C., Beverly Price has centered her art practice  and her education so far within the D.M.V. area. The artist studied business, organizational leadership and liberal arts at Georgetown University, and later, she completed a Master of Fine Arts in photographic and electronic media at Maryland Institute College of Art. She has exhibited and featured works at the National Museum of Women in the Arts (museum shop), Anacostia Art Center, Maryland Institute College of Art, American University, Virginia Commonwealth University, and more (courtesy of the artist’s website). 

Price’s career as both an artist and an activist hold firm roots within youth and community advocacy and involvement. Over the last five years, she has served in a variety of agencies and institutions throughout Baltimore City and her home, Washington D.C., as an empathetic educator and resident artist. You could trace her footprints to the American University, the Latin American Youth Center, Forest Park High School (Baltimore), and Charles Hart Middle School (Washington, D.C.) to name a few. Furthermore, Price instructed a Teen Residency Workshop Series at The Nicholson Project, where she was also an artist in residence until March of 2023 (courtesy of the artist’s website).

Price’s fervent investment in D.C. communities, observable in her Royal Blue Series, stems from her own experiences with loss of innocence and its impact on her life. In 2002, Price was sentenced to five years in prison as a senior in high school. When she returned home from prison at age 23, she decided to dedicate her life and her art practice to her continued growth and to the benefit of her community (courtesy of the artist’s website). Describing her experience teaching and working with youth in D.C. neighborhoods, she said, “life is about give and give… not give and take.” She expressed how giving is a key takeaway she wants to leave with younger generations, especially in underserved communities.

The Royal Blue Series dives into the heart of a D.C. neighborhood to demonstrate not only how children are directly affected by cycles of violence, but also how art can channel those experiences into healing with the opportunity for restoration and compensation. Price set out to explore adolescence and Black boys’ experiences growing up in D.C. at the onset of the project, and found motivation in uncovering ways to protect the innocence of Black boys in America. To create this series, Price collaborated with a group of adolescent boys in 2019, facing the aftermath of a murder of their brother and friend, 11-year-old Karon Brown. In the wake of this trauma, Price photographed the boys playing and hanging out – gathering in shared spaces like the playground. While building a relationship with them and taking their photos, Price also compensated the boys for their participation.

In Long Live Baby K, 2019, the child on the left is seen wearing a shirt in remembrance of Karon Brown. 2022 Silver Gelatin Print (Pearl), 11x14in. (courtesy of the artist’s website)

Price emphasized that she wants to show the boys that they can and will be compensated for their work in the art world. She hopes to impart on them that creative work, especially photography, can be an alternative source of income in addition to being a creative outlet as they work through their emotions. 

Accordingly, on one of her 2022 visits with the (now) teenage boys, she spent a day teaching them how to take photos and letting them use her camera to photograph each other. Over the course of the Royal Blue Series’ movement through exhibitions, art collections, publications, Price has endeavored to share this journey with the boys however she can, and to be a resource to her young collaborators in their creative development. The series photograph, Ray, 2022, depicts one of the children handling Price’s camera and peering into the lens. 

In Ray, 2022, The adolescent boy (left) is seen handling Price’s camera and peering into the lens. 2022 Silver gelatin print (pearl), 11x14in. (courtesy of the artist’s website)

Price is finding ways to keep the next generation’s attention by sharing creative practices that can engage emotions while generating an income stream. Now, when I view Price’s photography, I am hearing her voice play in my head, “give and give…not give and take.”

Beverly Price’s work is included in What We Do After at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from August 28  to October 6, 2022.

RESOURCE(S):

  1. Price, Beverly, “Meet Beverly,” 2023. Artist Website, 2023. https://www.beverlypricephoto.com/royal-blue-the-essence-of-innocence 
  2. Price Beverly, “The Royal Blue Series (The Essence of Innocence), 2022. Artist Website, 2023. https://www.beverlypricephoto.com/royal-blue-the-essence-of-innocence 
  3. Price/Chilcoat Discussion, September 12, 2023.
  4. Artist Talk with Beverly Price for CAPP, at the Nicholson Project, February 2023.

Natural Fragility from Argentina to Greenland and Beyond; Ingrid Weyland’s Topographies of Fragility V as a warning about the impacts of overusing Earth’s resources

Topographies of Fragility V from August 28th to September 30th, 2023, at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by James Cho

Mounted on a wall in the latter half of the Gallery facing visitors as they enter the exhibit is Ingrid Weyland’s Topographies of Fragility V archival pigment print. Born from a return trip across the world where she witnessed how unchecked human abuse of the natural world, Fragility V stands as an outcry against humanity’s role in climate destruction. 

Ingrid Weyland, Topographies of Fragility V, 2019. Archival pigment print, edition 6/7.

Akin to many before and after photos, Weyland masterfully bridges the past and present in Fragility V. By layering a scrunched-up copy of the print on top of a flat version, Weyland symbolises the destruction of nature in how the untouched beauty of an Argentinian forest she visited in the past has deteriorated since then. In the same way that Weyland scrunched up the identical print beyond repair, visitors can observe how the damage done to this forest is practically impossible to restore, and ponder what it might have looked like during her initial visit. 

Importantly, Weyland’s message extends beyond Argentina to the rest of the world, where humans both directly and indirectly impact the natural world. Places such as the Amazon rainforest, originally an area of nearly seven million square kilometres, has lost about twenty percent of its forests. Comparatively, that would be like if the US lost a natural environment the size of California and Kentucky put together.  In the image comparison below of satellite captures of the rainforest in 1985 and 2016, the red indicates vegetation and is visibly reduced in the second image. As in the case with the forest in Topographies of Fragility V, the rainforests of the Amazon will likely never grow back, or if they do, it will be with difficulty. Deforestation of the trees disrupts the symbiotic relationship that the trees have with organisms in the soil. Namely, these organisms in the soil or on the roots of the trees provide hard-to-gather nutrients to the trees like nitrogen from the decomposing biomass (since the soil itself is close to infertile) in exchange for a portion of the energy that the trees get from photosynthesis. The loss of the trees leads to the death of this niche set of organisms, meaning that regrowing a rainforest may be near-impossible due to the loss of this previously natural symbiosis. The comparisons may not seem mind-blowing in the before/after images below, but remember that these photographs were taken by satellites that are far above the earth!

Photographs by the ESA (European Space Agency) of the northwestern section of the Amazon Rainforest.

Similarly, Greenland’s ice sheets have been losing 270 billion metric tons of ice every year. Below is a visualisation of that loss of ice by NASA since 2002 alone, which shows how over the course of the life of many college students at UMD today, water levels from this ice loss have increased dramatically. 

By providing us with a visual representation of the dire situation we find ourselves in across the globe, Weyland’s Topography of Fragility V represents what we cannot allow to continue. Because it is not What We Do After we reach the tipping point of deforestation, ice sheet melting, or climate change as a whole, but What We Do Before that matters. Before we lose not only the trees, but also the animals and other wildlife that depend on the environment formed by the trees. Before the rising water levels produced by the melted ice sheets engulf or partly engulf cities like Annapolis, London, Shanghai, Mumbai, Tokyo, and the like underwater by 2050—which doesn’t account for countries that are already facing high floods or are partly underwater already, nor for other natural wonders like the Great Barrier Reef that faces total destruction within our lifetimes. 

Process and Bureaucracy

What We Do After from August 28 to September 30, 2023 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Oliver Foley

Jenny Wu, Magically Found $768,000,000,000, 2022

At first glance, the two-dimensional, wall-mounted, and rectangular form of Jenny Wu’s Magically Found $768,000,000,000 might read as a traditional painting. Yet, upon closer inspection, the viewer will notice the puzzle-like assembly of resinous blocks which comprise the piece. Wu creates these blocks by repeating a process of pouring thick layers of latex paint on glass, letting it dry, and pouring another layer. She cuts cross-sections of the dried paint into mineral-like tiles, which she then assembles into a “sculptural painting,” as Wu calls it. In many traditional paintings, the techniques and processes taken to create the work are hard to discern. In contrast, Wu’s sculptural painting prominently displays the layering process as one of the central aspects of the piece. 

In combination with the piece’s visible craftsmanship, the title itself contributes a great amount of thematic meaning to the artwork. The title quotes a tweet by Michigan Congresswoman Rashida Tlaib which states “Magically found $768,000,000,000 for a defense budget, but the same folks can’t fully fund the $45- $60 billion needed to remove lead service lines in our country.” The bureaucracy of the US government, which overwhelmingly prioritizes national defense over national need, never fails to “magically” find the resources it needs to remain militarily dominant. This piece of process art, which is transparent in method, stands in stark contrast to the opaque nature of the government’s activity.

Wu’s latex agate peels away the near-infinite layers of power dynamics, lobbying, and hidden motivations which go into the government’s budgeting. By encouraging the viewer to ponder the parallels between art and governance, Magically Found $768,000,000,000 encourages transformative thought about what lies beneath the surface of our nation’s institutions. Perhaps through extraction, convolution, and rearrangement, even our government could become as transparent and beautiful as Wu’s sculptural paintings. 

Jenny Wu’s work is included in What We Do After at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from August 28 to September 30, 2023. 

The Art of Artificial Intelligence: Exploring the Future of Creative Expression

LIMBSHIFT from April 20 to May 19, 2023 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Noa Nelson

During the 19th century, the invention of photography brought about an automated way of capturing detailed images which previously required human intervention. Although photography was praised for its precision and elimination of human error, debates emerged on whether machine-made images could be considered art and how human creativity played a role in the process. Today, similar debates have arisen with the emergence of artificial intelligence (AI)-generated art, which is raising questions about the nature of human expression and agency in a technology-mediated environment.

Featured in the Stamp Gallery’s current exhibition LIMBSHIFT, Dan Ortiz Leizman includes AI-generated videos and artwork within their showcase.  Leizman employs AI tools to generate images in DESIRE.propaganda prints, as well as for her short film, NUKESOUND. These are just a few ways in which AI is being used today by artists. 

AI has become an increasingly popular tool to push the boundaries of what we consider to be art. One of the most popular uses of AI in art is generative art, in which algorithms are used to create new artworks. This can include everything from abstract designs to realistic images, and even music or videos.

Another use of AI in art is in the analysis and interpretation of existing works. For example, AI can be used to identify patterns and themes in large collections of artwork, or to analyze the use of color and composition in individual pieces. This can provide insights into the artistic process and help to identify trends and influences in the art world.

Dan Ortiz Leizman, DESIRE.propaganda (2023), DALL-E, prints on paper

AI can be used to enhance the creative process for human artists. Some artists are using AI tools to generate new ideas and explore different creative possibilities. Others are using AI to automate repetitive tasks, such as color selection or the placement of objects in a composition, allowing them to focus on more creative aspects of their work.

However, there are also concerns about the use of AI in art. Some critics argue that the use of AI technology reduces the value of human creativity and skill, and that generative art lacks the emotional depth and intentionality of human-created art. Defining what is considered “real” art is a complex and subjective question that has been debated by artists, critics, and scholars for centuries. While there is no single definition of what constitutes real art, there are some general characteristics that are often associated with it.

First and foremost, real art is typically seen as a product of human creativity and imagination. It is an expression of the artist’s unique perspective, experiences, emotions, and ideas, and it often reflects the cultural, social, and historical context in which it was created. This means that real art is often seen as having a certain level of originality, authenticity, and personal meaning.

For the traditionally-minded, real art is also typically characterized by a high degree of skill and technical mastery. Whether it is painting, sculpture, music, or any other art form, the artist must have a certain level of training and expertise to create a work that is aesthetically pleasing and effective in conveying their intended message or emotion. This skill and mastery can be achieved through years of practice, experimentation, and study of the principles and techniques of the particular art form.

Art should also have the ability to evoke an emotional or intellectual response in the viewer. Whether it is a sense of awe, beauty, sadness, or contemplation, real art has the power to move us and make us think. This emotional and intellectual engagement is often what separates real art from mere decoration.

Ultimately, the question of what is considered real art is a subjective one that is shaped by individual tastes, cultural values, and historical context. While there are some general characteristics that are often associated with real art, it is important to remember that art is ultimately a reflection of the human experience and the infinite variety of ways in which we can express ourselves creatively.

Whether art generated by AI can be considered “real” art is a matter of ongoing debate. Some argue that the creative process of AI itself can be considered a form of art, and that the resulting works are valid expressions of creativity. Proponents of AI-generated art argue that the creative process of AI itself can be considered a form of art. They point out that AI algorithms are capable of generating surprising and unexpected results, and that the process of training an AI to create art can be as creative and experimental as any other artistic process. They also argue that the resulting works can be just as aesthetically pleasing and thought-provoking as human-created art.

Ultimately, the question of whether AI-generated art is “real” art may be less important than the fact that it is generating new and interesting forms of creative expression. While there are concerns about its impact on human creativity and the potential for misuse, there is also great potential for AI to push the boundaries of what we consider to be art and to enhance the creative process for human artists. As AI technology continues to develop, it will be interesting to see how artists and audiences alike respond to the new possibilities that it creates.

Dan Ortiz Leizman’s work is included in LIMBSHIFT at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from April 20th to May 19th, 2023. For more information on Dan Ortiz Leizman, visit https://www.danortizleizman.com/. For more information on LIMBSHIFT and related events, visit https://stamp.umd.edu/articles/stamp_gallery_presents_limbshift.

Related readings:

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/09/02/technology/ai-artificial-intelligence-artists.html

https://www.pbs.org/newshour/show/use-of-artificial-intelligence-generates-questions-about-the-future-of-art

Exploring What AI Means for Humans

LIMBSHIFT from April 20th to May 19th, 2023 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Ellen Zhang

The word “AI” or “artificial intelligence” seems to be the center of focus in our everyday lives. Turn on the TV, and you’ll hear about the next big company integrating ChatGPT capabilities into its products. Open up social media, and you’ll find thousands of content creators promoting ChatGPT alternatives. While many have quickly jumped onto the AI bandwagon, some have raised their concerns over the ethical implications of using AI. From replacing jobs to perpetuating bias to lacking accountability, the moral dilemma of AI is multi-faceted and boils down to the question of how AI integration impacts what it means to be human. 

LIMBSHIFT features the work of University of Maryland second-year MFA students Dan Ortiz Leizman and Kenneth Hilker, both of whom delve into the body and its constraints in relation to the world. Leizman’s work utilizes a combination of AI tools such as ChatGPT and DALL-E to convey a post-nuclear future where human asexual reproduction is a reality. Leizman uses DALL-E, an AI system that creates artistic images based on a description, to generate the images that can be seen in their DESIRE.propaganda prints.

Dan Ortiz Leizman, DESIRE.propaganda (2023), DALL-E, prints on paper.

Another way in which Leizman has used AI is in NUKESOUND, a film that resembles an evacuation notice and breaking news report. The background music crescendos and decrescendos, filling the listener with a sense of impending doom. This elicitation of strong emotions – fright, suspense, and nervousness – emulates the intended effects of historical propaganda. Complementing the music is a robotic voice that informs UMD students to evacuate in order to escape a nuclear disaster. Despite the fact that the script, and the voice itself, are AI-generated, the message induces fear. Leizman’s explorations of how AI integration affects humanity are intricately woven into each body of work. In observing NUKESOUND, the question of what makes us uniquely human becomes extremely blurred. Most will answer by pointing to a human’s ability to communicate and express emotions, but this argument is compromised by NUKESOUND’s ability to convey and evoke intense feelings. Looking at AI’s intellectual capabilities, NUKESOUND also proves that the people that are involved in the development of propaganda – spokespersons and script writers – are no longer needed. So, then, what becomes of humanity when our intellectual and emotional abilities can be replaced?

Dan Ortiz Leizman, NUKESOUND (2023), Film, 9:50.

Hilker’s works respond to this question by touching on the idea of human transformation in relation to space. He engages with woodwork by painting, utilizing steel and acrylic, and burning wood to transform it into complex bodies of work. In Emotion Without Language, each piece of wood is imperfectly shaped but collectively creates a sense of fluidity. Some wood pieces are more charred than others, some have slanted tops, and some are slightly chipped. By putting them together, however, Hilker creates a mesmerizing, semi-spiralized structure. Each piece of wood supports one another, creating the illusion of a structure that is growing upwards. His work leaves you with the hopeful feeling that there is still room for growth in the structure and, consequently, in humans. In a world where cognitive and affective capabilities can be replicated by AI, Hilker’s work engages with a uniquely human quality: the ability for individually imperfect humans to continuously and collectively transform into something beautiful. In contrast to AI’s coherency and absoluteness, human imperfections lead to diverse perspectives, creativity, and connection. For example, our flaws allow us to empathize, enabling us to emotionally connect and form deep relationships with others as well as ourselves. As a result, there is unlimited space for us to grow emotionally, creatively, and socially. AI certainly has the potential to develop, but it comes in the form of flawless data, models, and training procedures. Whereas AI requires a perfect foundation to expand on, humanity learns from and thrives on incongruencies.

Kenneth Hilker, Emotion Without Language (2023), Repurposed burnt wood, steel, acrylic.

I see Leizman’s and Hilker’s works within a question-reply relationship, where each artist provides their unique perspectives on what humanity means in light of momentous innovations. Their works are in conversation with each other, filling the gallery with insightful dialogue on what humanity is and how we can understand humanity’s progression amidst rapidly changing surroundings. 

Dan Ortiz Leizman and Kenneth Hilker’s works are included in LIMBSHIFT at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from April 20th to May 19th, 2023. For more information on Dan Ortiz Leizman, visit https://www.danortizleizman.com/. For more information on Kenneth Hilker, visit his Instagram @kenneth.hilker. For more information on LIMBSHIFT and related events, visit https://stamp.umd.edu/articles/stamp_gallery_presents_limbshift.

OPEN CALL: Redefining Beauty After Human Asexual Reproduction

LIMBSHIFT from April 20th to May, 19th 2023 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Isabella Chilcoat

Beauty exists in every age of human history. Classically, “beauty consists of an arrangement of integral parts into a coherent whole, according to proportion, harmony, symmetry, and similar notions” (Sartwell, 2022). By this metric, where there is harmony, a divine order, or a mathematical formula for aesthetic proportion, there is beauty. In every monumental human transition, humanity follows or creates beauty. Philosophy fails to provide a concrete answer that encapsulates the entirety of what beauty is, though. Therefore, beauty is a fluid thing, neither wholly subjective nor wholly objective. But when a new order appears, what is beauty, what becomes beautiful? 

The Stamp Gallery’s exhibition, LIMBSHIFT, is not only contemplative on beauty, it is challenging.

LIMBSHIFT features two second-year University of Maryland MFA candidates’ mixed media, multi-dimensional artworks that highlight the capacities of the human body and its limitations. One of the artists, Dan Ortiz Leizman, grafts emerging AI technology to tactile mixed media. Through their art, they hypothesize the possibilities of human asexual reproduction in the aftermath of nuclear destruction. Ortiz Leizman’s projections obliterate the present framework for gender, sex, and social identities, leaving open the space for considering beauty in an alternative landscape. In this hypothetical, asexual reproduction carries specific Darwinian hopes for eliminating some genetic diseases, altering public health, and mitigating gender discrimination (Jose de Carli, 2017). But while asexual reproduction eliminates a significant physical divide between people, it erodes individuality by limiting the gene pool in future generations. 

Imagine that there is no longer male or female, only human. There is no more variation in appearance as there is no more variation in ability. There is a new sense of sameness in reproductive ability which extinguishes distinctions in physical appearance. 

There is a new order to physiology, a new formula for evolution. Traditional sexual reproduction becoming obsolete means stripping “being sexualized” from the standard of beauty because there is no need for it. This dawn of asexual reproduction calls for a reconsideration of beauty from how it looks to how it feels, how it sounds, how it operates. How is it recognized? Moving away from the physical body and from reproduction, beauty can exist on an abstracted plane unencumbered by corrupt standards or social doctrine. Beauty detached from sexualization, objectification, and gender is open and free to shift into a new meaning. 

Beauty detached from sexualization, objectification, and gender is open and free to shift into a new meaning. 

Dan Ortiz Leizman’s work is included in LIMBSHIFT at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from April 20th to May 19th, 2023. For more information on Dan Ortiz Leizman, visit https://www.danortizleizman.com/. For more information on LIMBSHIFT and related events, visit https://stamp.umd.edu/articles/stamp_gallery_presents_limbshift.

Resources: 

  • Gabriel Jose de Carli, Tiago Campos Pereira, On human Parthenogenesis, Medical Hypotheses, Volume 106, 2017, Pages 57-60, ISSN 0306-9877, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.mehy.2017.07.008.
  • Sartwell, Crispin, “Beauty”, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Summer 2022 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/sum2022/entries/beauty/.