Is “AI” Sculpture?

by JM Larkin

January, 2025

  Discussions of  “artificial intelligence” these days resemble everything from tutorials catered towards artists wishing to glean from the technological harvest (or not be left in the dust), to what seem like fetid breaths through the salpinx of the apocalypse. While the ultimate application of this “thing” that is called “AI” may be as fugitive as its origin, it is undeniable that something new has emerged. But what is it, exactly? The term itself comes off as a bit of a misnomer; it is certainly real (as are all things, in their own way), but mostly hidden out of sight. And although valid arguments exist for why this new technology is a form of intelligence, they only distract from the true novelty: that of a rapid advancement in the handling of raw materials.  
  The discussion of cybernetics, a word which refers to the steering of a ship, is not new. Roughly put it is the notion of inputting something, getting something back, and responding to it. It is a very human concern, and speaks deeply to our understanding of systems as a means to an end (think smashing a rock with another rock to get a stone tool to then hunt with). The term was used in regards to political systems until the mid-20th century, when excitement and concern in the field of engineering stimulated new discourse and borrowed terminology. Soon this conversation flowed into the world of popular media, and a mythology emerged addressing both the excitement and concern with a disquiet focus on autopoises and subsequent human subjugation. Unlike Frankenstein’s Monster, whose isolation and suicide mimic concerns about the individual impacts of technology and the nature of being human, this new sentient machine is not concerned with loneliness and fitting in but expansion at all costs. In the modern myth it is a technology out of control and perhaps a reflexive concern for the destructive potential of a society that does not know the limits of its material consumption. 
  If much of the talk of  “AI” is really responding to the mythology surrounding it then what is the artist to do, who should be as much concerned with the materials as they are the mythology? To illustrate a point, take the readymade gessoed canvas. Like “artificial intelligence”, it is neither of the two things it claims to be (it is neither made of canvas, nor does it contain any trace of gypsum), and is marketed as not art on its own, but something that through the intervention of the artist can be turned into art. Like “AI”, the readymade canvas also panders to the assumptions of its consumer about the nature of a painting while ignoring the reality of its material composition. Naturally as the artist slowly begins to understand the nature of their materials and steps outside the confines of what is commercially marketed to them, so too should the artist who uses software begin to ponder the material reality of their production and discover that all roads lead to magnetized pieces of metal, glass, and ceramic.
  Considering “AI” as sculpture actually addresses many 20th century sculptural concerns of dematerialization. Here is a kinetic object capable of producing art totally removed from its own material presence. It is the invisible sculpture, whose impact is only felt as a reaction to our input. In the process it evokes familiar discussions surrounding the nature of humanity and the ability to replicate it. But perhaps more importantly, it encourages inquiry into the use of raw materials, their value, and their environmental impact. In 2022 the International Energy Agency reported that data centers consume about 2% of the global energy demand and predicted that number to increase by 35%-128% by 2026. Major tech companies are also reporting dramatic increases in their carbon emissions due to the use of “AI” in search queries. By thinking about “AI” as sculpture, the artist is given the opportunity to create work that looks past the veil of mythology and exposes the reality of one of humanity’s most urgent and persistent concerns: a thirst for material mutability that ultimately renders our habitat uninhabitable.