Art and AI: what is it going to change?
Artificial intelligence is changing many areas of our lives, and visual creation is no exception.
Tools capable of generating images in seconds, imitating visual codes or producing endless variations from a few written instructions are becoming increasingly accessible.
For painters, illustrators and watercolour artists, this raises some very real questions.
Does AI threaten artistic creation? Does it reduce the perceived value of an artwork? And, in a world where images can be generated almost instantly, what becomes more important about work created by a human hand?
AI-generated images: a powerful new tool
Generative AI tools can create images from written prompts and reproduce an extraordinary variety of visual styles.
Ask for a minimalist watercolour of the Atlantic coast and, within seconds, several convincing images may appear.
From a purely visual point of view, the result can sometimes be impressive.
But an attractive image and an artwork are not necessarily the same thing.
The real question is therefore less about whether AI can produce beautiful images than about what gives artistic work its value.
The risk of devaluing artistic work
One of the most immediate effects of AI is the impression that images can now be produced almost effortlessly.
Why buy an original work or a carefully produced Fine Art reproduction if a decorative image can be generated for almost nothing?
This question reveals an important distinction.
The value of an artwork does not lie only in its final appearance. It also comes from the artist’s intention, experience, technique, choices and relationship with the subject.
A watercolour may take only a few hours to paint, but the ability to create it may have taken decades to develop.
AI makes the production of images faster.
It does not make an artist’s experience unnecessary.
Towards visual uniformity?
Generative models work by identifying patterns in very large datasets and producing new images from those patterns.
This makes them extremely effective at reproducing familiar visual conventions.
The downside is that large quantities of generated images can begin to share the same polished appearance: attractive colours, spectacular light, balanced compositions — but sometimes little personality.
For watercolour in particular, this matters.
Part of the appeal of an original work lies in its irregularities: the movement of water, the density of a pigment, an unexpected mark, the pressure of a line or a decision made in the moment.
These imperfections are often precisely what gives the work its character.
When imitation becomes a problem
AI also raises difficult questions around artistic identity.
A user can ask some systems to generate an image that closely resembles the visual language associated with a particular artist.
Even when the resulting image is technically new, it may borrow recognisable characteristics from an artist’s work.
For creators with a strong and distinctive visual identity, this raises both ethical and legal questions.
The issue is especially sensitive when generated images are presented, sold or circulated in a way that could lead people to believe they were created by the original artist.
For Ligne 42, preserving the identity and authorship of the artists whose work we publish is therefore essential.
An artwork also tells a story
A landscape is never only a collection of shapes and colours.
An artist chooses a viewpoint because something caught their attention.
They may know the harbour they are painting, have walked along the quay dozens of times or remember a particular light on a winter afternoon.
This relationship with the subject becomes part of the work.
When Gérard Lusteau painted La Baule, Le Pouliguen, Guérande or Saint-Nazaire, he was not simply reproducing geographical information.
He was interpreting places he knew through his own drawing, sensitivity and choices.
An AI-generated image can imitate certain visual characteristics.
It cannot have lived that relationship with the place.
A flood of images
Generative AI also makes it possible to produce enormous quantities of images at very low cost.
Online marketplaces and social networks can therefore become saturated with visual content.
For independent artists, this creates a new challenge: not necessarily competing image against image, but making the origin and meaning of their work visible.
Who created it?
Why was it created?
What is the story behind it?
How was it made?
These questions may become increasingly important when technically polished imagery is available everywhere.
The illusion of creation without learning
AI tools make it possible to obtain visually convincing results without learning drawing, colour, perspective or composition in the traditional way.
That accessibility can be useful and creatively stimulating.
But it can also create the impression that the creative process itself no longer matters.
Yet experimentation, failure, repetition and technical learning are often what allow an artist to develop a personal language.
The finished artwork is only the visible part of that process.
AI also has creative uses
Rejecting AI entirely would probably miss part of the picture.
Artists can use digital tools for research, documentation, composition tests, communication or experimentation without replacing the creation of the artwork itself.
The real question is therefore not simply AI or no AI.
It is how the technology is used, and whether the role of the artist remains clear.
A tool can assist a creative process.
It should not make us forget who created the work, what inspired it and what makes it distinctive.
What can artists emphasise?
In a world filled with generated imagery, artists have every reason to make the human dimension of their work more visible:
- a distinctive point of view;
- a real story behind the artwork;
- a hand-developed technique;
- sketches, studies and stages of creation;
- a connection with a particular place;
- choices, imperfections and changes made during the process.
At Ligne 42, this means showing more of the artist’s work, explaining how an image was created and telling the story of the places represented.
In conclusion
Artificial intelligence is unlikely to mean the end of art.
But it may change what we value.
As generated images become abundant, the origin of an artwork, the intention behind it and the human story attached to it may become even more important.
A hand-drawn line, a real memory of a place and an artist’s individual way of seeing it cannot simply be reduced to image production.
In an increasingly automated visual world, knowing who created an image — and why — may become part of its value.