In his 1994 article The Technology of Enchantment and the Enchantment of Technology, social anthropologist Alfred Gell suggests that the power of great objects of human art, craft and ingenuity lies in their technical accomplishment. The profound spiritual resonance of great religious artworks, for example, is a result of them being incredible human achievements that the viewer might struggle to comprehend and so attribute to divine forces, just as the astonishing skill of a glassmaker, woodcarver, a potter or embroiderer might appear to be supernatural.
A similar process has been well documented when it comes to artificial intelligence and predictive systems: the apparently superhuman virtuosity of machines when playing ‘complex’ games such as chess or ‘Go’, or when recognising images and interacting with humans, imbues them with seemingly superhuman prowess. This is often exploited by tech companies, which draw on magical or mystical terminology in describing how they work. This is, perhaps, why engineers and tech companies are attracted to art: it allows them to activate enchantment as a way of demonstrating the power of AI. As Gell identified: if machines can make great art or craft they must surely meet, if not exceed, the human.
A recent example of the enchanting qualities of AI is Ai-Da, ‘the world’s first ultra-realistic artist robot’. Ai-Da is perhaps best known for its appearance at a House of Lords select committee hearing in October 2022, where it testified on the role of technology in the future of the arts in the UK. This year, Ai-Da designed a collection of ceramics for an exhibition at the London Design Biennale at Somerset House – each of the 3D-printed objects has the appearance of being individual, with the flourish of craft and decoration rather than the minimalist utilitarianism an audience might expect from objects designed by machine.
The robot’s website describes ‘her’ as ‘an artist-in-residence at Porthmeor Studios in St Ives, influenced by modernist design, including Bauhaus, the Omega Workshop and the Leach Pottery’. The objects themselves are intriguing, referencing the art of kintsugi with a dash of the extra terrestrial. Like much of the narrative around Ai-Da, the work is intentionally ambiguous, framed as ‘provocations’ that attempt to trouble the boundaries of human and machine creativity: why would a machine design ‘inefficient’ objects? How would a machine develop an aesthetic taste?