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2024

SHALL WE EVER ESCAPE THE SAMSARA?

REBIRTH

(浴火)

REBIRTH (浴火)
Video
4 min 29 seconds
2024

Above is an excerpt. Please click the link below to watch the full video.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mgkszVM1ztU 

While the title of this piece typically conveys hope in its English literary context, it resonates more profoundly here when interpreted through a Buddhist lens. Much like the ancient Chinese myth of the phoenix rising anew from its ashes, or the oft-repeated adage "what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger," we are naturally drawn to stories of resilience and transformation. However, reality teaches us that not all suffering concludes with a triumphant ending. In fact, some suffering may never truly end. Who, then, tells the stories of those who, despite their relentless efforts, find themselves caught in an inextricable tangle of confusion, misery, and self-destructive habits?

 

Skin-safe silicone, with its uncanny resemblance to real flesh, allows me to viscerally reenact the familiar pain experienced in my ongoing battles with mental illness—an intensity akin to physically tearing oneself apart. Fire represents the exasperated efforts towards recovery and renewal. Through the act of burning old remnants, I manifest my dire desires to start afresh and break free from habitual torment. Yet, I also question this desire. Buddhists believe that an end to suffering—nirvana—is possible, albeit extremely difficult. My doubt remains: is such an ending, even if ever attained, truly as utopian as it seems?

 

So this piece serves as an acknowledgment for those like me—recognizing the genuine trials and tribulations within this process, despite the inability to present a perfect conclusion and the potential for a swift return to self-destruction after only a fleeting glimpse of freedom. Both literally and conceptually, this piece may be the “rawest” yet. I strip myself bare—not to seek understanding or pity, but with an urgency to portray reality in its totality.

 

Where does this desperate need stem from? I cannot say. Yet it is this same force that drives nearly all of my artistic creations.

The logical being avoids pain

 

I wish I was

 

                                Instead it becomes a ritual

To repeat

 

Cycle after cycle

 Manic moth,

                 Flame diving

Every time

  I say it’s the last

 

                                                                      “I’ve left the past behind. I grew.

                                         Evolved.

                                                              Transformed.”

 

                          When can I stop

 

            I can appear as the molting serpent

                                                                    Lie to the world

                                     I’m good at it

 

But what good is that??

I can never deceive myself

 

So I peel

                                               Layer after layer

                                                                                                   Before the scab heals

 

                                                                        Peeling

A relief that wounds

 

I take a strange comfort in the sting of regression

 

It’s as though the pain itself becomes proof that I’m still alive, even as it erodes me. It becomes an inescapable paradox: if I tried to crawl back up, and somehow somehow I did manage, I plunge back in, indulging

 

We naturally crave endings—as if fulfillment can only be attained on the premise of reaching some sort of determinate conclusion. 

                                   But the end —if such a thing even exists—

 

Do you seek it

Do you long to see it

 

So you no longer see the moth flying into flames

 

Has it learned

 

Maybe it burned its wings for the last time

 

Do you believe in fate?

I do

I don’t

I do

I don’t

2024

Becoming

Becoming
Video
8 min 32 seconds
2024

Above is an excerpt. Please click the link below to watch the full video.

https://youtu.be/y5e5OyW0FOc 

The rapid evolution of generative AI sparks both intense curiosity and deep apprehension about the complex relationship between humans and technology, particularly in the realm of visual arts. A pressing question emerges: where do humans stand in the race against machines in terms of capability? Speed, efficiency, and technique already seem insurmountable; digital software like Sora can produce increasingly sophisticated images in seconds, eclipsing traditional illustrators backed by decades of experience. Perhaps creative originality is the last bastion to cling to.

However, are we certain we are more creative?

If provided with the same input—personal experience, background information, artistic inspirations, and other factors—how much more 'creative' are biological entities compared to machines? And by what criteria are we making this evaluation?

Almost through a scientific approach, I sought to test where Chat GPT-4o would arrive at when tasked with “creating” a performance art piece given similar inspirations, material choice, etc. as myself. You could say I attempted at devising an AI version of myself as an artist. I wanted this artificial intelligence to think like me.

To become me—tell me to create an artwork I already created. 
 

Human Versus Machine: The Genesis of Becoming

The inspiration for Becoming surfaced during my volunteer work designing an exhibition space for the 2024 GenAI Summit Silicon Valley. Just a few weeks prior, I had documented a performance art piece where I covered myself in coffee powder before engaging in an intuitive, rather transcendental body-painting experience that intersects abstract expressionism painting with contemporary performance. Now, I will attempt to closely meta-analyze each step that led to the creation of this piece, and hopefully, the reason for this will become clear by the end of the reading.

 

Like most of my conceptual work, the genesis of this piece was rooted in my subjective experiences—my enthusiasm for coffee and a long-standing desire to experiment with performance art—and my academic interests, which were then centered on 70s female performance artists such as Joan Jonas and Marina Abramović. I was primarily inspired by their radical experiments with the body, the integration of the artist and the artwork, relinquishing control and emphasizing process over product.

 

I eventually presented this work during my final critique for a video-based course that semester, and with its unconventional material experimentation and emotional intensity, I received applause from both my classmates and professor. Yet, I knew something was still missing; I realized I still largely worked within the confines of the last-century performance artists, venturing into their old territory.

 

It was not until AI concepts consumed 70% of my conscious mind as I became deeply involved in GenAI Summit that I finally felt a jolt of artistic revelation: what if I juxtaposed the intimate, experiential, impulsive and hyper-humanity of experimental performance with its absolute antonym—the presumed logical, evidence-based, functional, and objective framework of artificial intelligence?

 

In fact, what would happen if I fine-tuned the latter to become the former? I was already familiar with being shocked by AI’s novel abilities. This time, however, I’m asking it to challenge its fundamental modality—and with it, our presumptions.

 

Once the idea emerged, the process moved quickly. I chose Chat GPT 4-o for its accessibility and because it represents the most commonly used AI today. I then began feeding the LLM detailed personal data: birthplace, personality, education, and everything in between. Of course, I even shared about my recent visit to MOMA’s Joan Jonas retrospective. Over the entire course, I spoke to GPT the same way I would with an old friend—or more representatively, the same voice I usually conduct my inner dialogues in, which explains the occasional profanity and self-deprecating humor.

 

If you watched the entirety of the 8 min 32 seconds footage (sped up for optimal viewing), I would expect you to be equally shocked at how accurately Chat GPT’s detailed description of the artwork it would generate mimicked my own original work.

 

This was what I eventually wrote as the artwork description, although I personally prefer the more casual tone used in this piece because, of course, even the rationale involved some level of AI help with grammar edits. 

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Here are the key takeaways from this project:

  1. The definitions of originality and creativity are more complex than they appear. 

  2. Complete freedom from technology is nearly impossible today, nor is it necessary to resist its assistance. 

 

I was equally intrigued by insights from my father upon hearing about this project. He analogized the brain’s process of learning and information absorption to that of the machine, implying that the two hold a similar underlying mechanism and that the former is no more superior to the latter. As an artist, I undoubtedly would love to believe in a fundamental superiority of human creativity (and intelligence) over our mechanical innovation. Yet, experiences like these—technology’s eerie ability to instantaneously “grasp” years of lived experience to arrive at a similar present action as humans—undeniably challenge this optimistic conviction. My conclusion seems to point to the fact that I succeeded in turning Chat GPT into “me,” a conclusion I didn’t anticipate would feel so intensely, simultaneously disturbing and fascinating.

Throughout the project, the only other thought that occupied my mind was: if only my Chat-GPT had a physical body, hell, perhaps I would even let it “live” for me.

"By juxtaposing the artist’s interaction with ChatGPT 4 alongside an experimental performance where she paints with her body and coffee ground, “BECOMING” (2024) explores the artistic boundaries of public GenAI models while examining notions of originality and creativity. The piece showcases the astonishing speed in which GPT develops a detailed idea for a performance art piece through prompting, eventually generating one that almost exactly mirrors the artist’s original vision, which was conceived completely without machine aid."

—Easter egg: a note from my project brainstorm that I found rather humorous

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