(Context -- I recently directed Oscar Wilde's Salome: Rude Mechanicals 1990s Edition. It was my directorial debut and, though no production is without hiccups, ultimately went really well! I remain super proud of it -- though it's been less than a week since we closed, so that's unsurprising.)

Okay, hear me out: The Importance of Being Earnest, but as staged by aliens who weren't entirely up on Earth/Victorian customs. Maybe the cucumber sandwiches are whole-ass cucumbers on hoagie rolls, and maybe Algernon nom-noms them in sprays of (craft foam) bread crumbs and cucumber chunks. Maybe Jack's home in the countryside is scary for no goddamned reason, and maybe Cecily is a haunted doll and Miss Prism a nun charged with containing her. (Maybe Horror Earnest should be a separate thing.) Maybe there's some *other* reason the name Ernest is important, like maybe it's obviously necessary to power-on and take control of the death ray that's been onstage the entire time but never mentioned. I'm just saying -- there are possibilities here.

So what got me tangentially thinking about that was a thing I was told back when I was developing my concept for Salome: "It's okay to just do the play." And -- sure. I've enjoyed productions where the director's intention was to stage a play in as close to its original presentation as possible given our limitations. Period dress, affected accents, furniture of the day and/or conscious attempts to avoid anachronisms in staging. I've been part of these productions (though admittedly not many). It's okay to do them. (more...)

So. I have no idea why I'm being vague about any of this -- dramatic effect? -- but here we go. Some years ago, I was working on a production where the director wanted to set one scene at an outdoor campfire. I could actually appreciate the aesthetic -- a campfire is a perfect setting for spookiness, and this scene did in fact contain spookiness -- but nevertheless early on one of us asked why, given the context, the scene should take place at a campfire. The director's response -- which I rather took to heart -- was effectively, "Shrug. I think it's cool." Noted.

And yet: later, when blocking another dramatic scene, I suggested two assailants entering from opposite entrances in order to converge on their quarry in dramatic fashion, I was effectively told, in kinda dismissive fashion, "That's stupid. Why would they be coming from two different places? On that side is <specific place>; on that side is <other specific place>." Noted.

So the production got reviewed, and reviews explicitly called out the confusing choice of setting that prior scene at a campfire, and there was much commentary about how the review was unfair because it included nitpicks like that. And yet I personally didn't think it was unfair, because we clearly *did* care about things like that throughout. Even if the audience couldn't entirely follow it (I never quite worked it out myself), entrances and exits were blocked according to a floor/nation plan. There were references to a greater world and world-building (that arguably didn't map 1:1 to the text, but it was there). There was, to my mind, clearly enough intention put into the setting to justify criticism where one thought it fell short. (more...)

So yesterday a friend posted a rant, and there was (apparently, ostensibly) much agreement with this rant, and I posted a response that I intended to come off as more nuanced and constructive (and a little bit playful). I don't know how it went over -- I'm not sure if the OP ever saw it -- but another friend replied to that comment with something to the effect of "read the room." And I've been pondering that.

Now, I don't think he was wrong to say that -- I do think he meant it as a constructive, helpful criticism, and after pausing for consideration I agreed with the assessment and deleted my original comment. (I did later see that a few other people had responded along the lines that I did, albeit more briefly and perhaps less infuriatingly, so I am glad that the sentiment was registered and that I'm not singularly awful for offering it.) But really... even if I had read the other comments and seen that that was not the common thread, I'd still have responded as I did? I generally want to be able to speak freely with my friends, and (within certain bounds of decorum, anyway) I feel I owe my friends my honest opinions. (more...)

So I've got some open source AI models running locally on my machine now. I actually find the image and 3D model generation ones to be pretty useful -- I mean I'm not doing anything *important* with them, but generally after a lot of finagling and tweaking prompts I can come up with something that looks at least as good as and sometimes even better than the thing I set out to make. And I do genuinely enjoy the creative back-and-forth of prompt tweaking and the ability to really play with variations on a theme. It's neat.

What I've done less with, however, is the chat functions. A lot of the open source chat models just won't run for me (whether that's because my CPU doesn't have dedicated AI hardware -- my GPU does -- or configuration issues or other reasons, I cannot say), but the ones that do are, uh, interesting. Granted, local open source models were never going to be as knowledgeable as ChatGPT or Gemini (the things I have can't access the internet and rely on data last updated in 2024), but even taking that into account they're just... well. Let me show you. (more...)

Another thing I wanted to post because I already wrote it and then decided it was perhaps too long for someone's comments thread ^^;:

I don't even entirely disagree [with the argument that AI "art" is not art proper and would have more artistic value if it were produced in collaboration with a commissioned visual artist] -- I just think that in a world of limited time, money, and personal resources, not everything needs to be art. AI memes make people snicker at a time when it can be difficult to summon even a smile. Folks are using AI to model and 3d print miniatures with the likenesses of dead loved ones, citing the activity and output as helping them to bear their grief. Others are using AI to generate political cartoons and flyers and images of resistance -- graphics that better enable them to communicate their viewpoints and allegiances in a visual-oriented landscape. (Should effective political expression only be reserved for those with sufficient capital to pay propaganda artists?)

Maybe these outputs don't qualify as art; many of the folks generating them would not claim that they do. But I don't think that means they don't have value -- because it's less important that they adhere to some lofty human artistic vision than that they happen quickly and cheaply and serve their purpose despite lacking an expert's touch. In many cases, while I'd agree that in an unbounded world where Art was All and we all had infinity and wisdom to appreciate it endlessly, I think that bringing in a human artist collaborator would actually *diminish* their practical benefits on the user end here. A funny visual joke lands no matter how many fingers a character sports on a given hand (if you're me, multiple fingers/limbs may even make it funnier), and if by its very nature it's forgettable then it seems a waste of time for a real artist to pour so much human effort into it. It's not intended to be art. But if it makes people laugh -- if it makes even the person generating it laugh -- I'm kinda okay with it. I don't see the harm. That one image (or even the dozens of images that might have been generated during the course of refining it) isn't responsible for worsening climate change or other environmental collapse.

Perhaps more succinctly put: I think slop has its place, is not without value, and does not even necessarily lack meaning. While I may agree that AI slop isn't art and/or would have more artistic value with more human technique behind it, I'm okay with slop having a lane all its own.