Opinion

Autograph - Eileen Perrier: A Thousand Small Stories

Considering photography, creativity and humanity as AI redefines art (again).
Autograph - Eileen Perrier: A Thousand Small Stories

Last week Wiedemann Lampe had a studio outing to Eileen Perrier’s ‘A Thousand Small Stories’ at Autograph. An exhibition of portrait photography considering individual and social identity, class, culture and belonging.

Discussing the show afterwards around our kitchen table sandwich bar, we quickly realised that photography as an art form can really divide a crowd. Some of us were deeply captivated by what we saw, and others, underwhelmed.

 

Subjectivity as storytelling

We asked ourselves - what is it that gives photography its meaning? Why is it that some works of photography resonate, and others do not?

Of course it helps to have beautiful lighting, a great eye for composition, and a suite of different lenses. But it’s the subject, whether a building, object or person, that gives the image its meaning.

And especially for portrait photography like Perrier’s, we felt it was the subject’s context, their story, that really brought the images to life. Who is this person? What is their worldview? Why this facial expression and body language? What is the source of their emotion? And - crucially - for us as viewers, how necessary is knowing the answers to these questions to being moved by what we see?

 

Technological innovation, creative disruption

Once upon a time photography was the latest technological innovation in art; decried in its infancy as mere mechanism - not just devoid of artistry, but at risk of cannibalising creativity more broadly. And now we find the same conversation orbiting AI - the latest innovation to challenge our preconceived notions of creativity.

With AI, everything can be emulated. It’s a model based on averages and highly sophisticated mimicry. Considering our questions about what makes photography land, we decided to see what happens when we recreate some of Perrier’s images using AI.

Eileen Perrier: from the series Grace, 2000.

Eileen Perrier: from the series Grace, 2000.

Although both images broadly share a facial expression, the emotional intent of the original resonates far more deeply. The glimmering skin of her joyful face looking into the distance; there's a sincerity to it that is lost in the AI version.

Eileen Perrier: from the series Red, Gold and Green, 1996-1997

Eileen Perrier: from the series Red, Gold and Green, 1996-1997

Of course the AI woman on the right doesn’t look very genuine, but let's focus here on the environment. The room in the original image is far more cluttered - cups stacked unevenly on top of each other, a thin unironed sheet mounted behind the subjects. This crucial definition and detail is lost with AI. Other images of Perrier’s feature even more specific storytelling layered in the background - artifacts, memorabilia, even the subject’s own photography - which would be still more challenging for AI to reconstruct without sacrificing the authenticity of the personal history they represent.

Eileen Perrier: from the Ghana, 1995

Eileen Perrier: from the Ghana, 1995

Interestingly in this comparison, the subject in the AI-created image is looking straight into the camera, whereas in the original she is not. As a result, the emotional impact of the image is totally transformed.

Eileen Perrier: from the series Blessing, 2002

Eileen Perrier: from the series Blessing, 2002

Here, the woman's facial expression alters slightly, but significantly, in its recreation. There's a sense of pride in the original. Eyes filled with life. Whereas the AI version lacks that same character, that cheekiness.

 

Seeking perfection in an imperfect world

Looking at these comparisons, AI has done a good job at recreating Perrier’s originals - and doubtless before too long they will be even closer aligned. Subjects share a likeness, are compositionally matched, with close colour profiles. However, the lighting and texture, even after giving quite explicit prompts, aren’t so successful. The AI images almost look gloss coated, lacking the imperfections of the originals. They almost feel too contemporary; transcending the time, place and technology that produced their originals.

And across the board, the thing that AI simply cannot recreate is the humanity behind Perrier’s images. The human story that the subject carries with them, contextualising the image and (depending on your subjective taste) triggering a poignant emotional response in its viewer. Put simply, Perrier’s images are grounded in humanity.

No matter how believable the final product, even if (or indeed when) it’s indistinguishable from an ‘actual’ photograph, without a real human subject AI-produced photography cannot have the same depth of storytelling, the same depth of meaning. And sure, we could generate an AI-fuelled story to accompany the image - but the fact (or lack thereof) remains the same.

AI might be the latest in a long history of innovations to challenge creativity as we know it. But powerful and intriguing though it may be, its automation means it cannot exist in the same category as creative innovations - like photography - that have come before it.

Only time will tell whether we will ever respond as emotionally - either positively or negatively - to an AI photography exhibition as we did to Perrier’s work. But there’s no doubt that AI will change, is already changing, what we understand the concept and parameters of art to be.