Emma Murphree

To date, this column has taken a broadly anti-AI and AI art stance. I intuitively know that the primary reason I feel this way is due to a personal aesthetic aversion to AI art.

Consumption for consumption’s sake is something I think we all engage in to a degree, but maybe some of us are more prone to it than others.

The appeal of a Shygirl concert logically hinges on atmosphere — luckily they were dialed to seductive sublimity March 21 at The Regency Ballroom in San Francisco.

Borden appeared at BAMPFA the weekend of March 17-19 for a reverse-chronological showing of each film in the trilogy, beginning with “Working Girls,” followed by “Born in Flames,” and concluding with her first and long “closeted” feature, “Regrouping.”

An otherwise bleak semester turned decidedly sunnier last week with the return of “Succession” for its final season.

For days when the thought of watching a Criterion Collection film or, God forbid, cracking the spine of a book conjures a wave of nausea, I turn to reality TV.

Belonging to the small but vocal minority of people who spend too much time on Twitter, I typically first encounter media and art in their abridged, non-contextualized states before I ever consume them the way that we are “supposed to.”

Speaking with McHayle, it's incredibly evident (despite her laissez-faire attitude towards men, naysayers and the industry) just how seriously she takes herself.

In the aesthetic wasteland, personal artistic tastes are merely superficial. Where they once functioned as a means of sculpting one’s identity, they now serve a higher power: selling stuff.

What gets churned out by AI is inherently antithetical to art, so why do we labor to maintain that it might still have creative utility?