Generative Portraiture: From Francis Bacon to AI

Left: Francis Bacon’s “Study for Head of George Dyer” (1967); Right: Mal in the film “Inception” (2010).

During one of the early dream scenes in Christopher Nolan’s Inception, a character named Mal fixates her attention to a painting hanging on the wall, “Study for Head of George Dyer” by Francis Bacon. In another scene, the face of Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio) is shown as contorted, emerging in slow motion from rushing slabs of water, like the tortured faces in several of Bacon’s famous works. We are provided with clues to the main character’s tumultuous inner struggle. Bacon’s portrait was created around the time researchers noted the use of the term generative art in the broad context of automated computer graphics in the mid-1960s.

Generative art, or algorithmic art, dates all the way back — according to Afrofuturist and generative artist Nettice R. Gaskins — to prehistoric basket weaving. Generative art is anything that couples a code, or set of instructions, with a series of artificial events that can output endless variations, be it baskets, paintings, or NFTs. — Me via Mieke Marple

Mieke Marple, Medusa #542, 2022. Courtesy of the artist.

The terms “generative art” and “computer art” have been used in tandem, and more or less interchangeably, since those very early days, up to and including the use of generative artificial intelligence or GenAI. Until recently, traditional art (with a capital “A”) and computer or digital art have existed largely in separate worlds. I’m reminded of the time my typography professor at Pratt forbade the use of computer software to work on projects. My major area of study was computer graphics, so I was instantly disenchanted but later I respected his decision. I understood that I had to exist in different worlds, even if the walls remained up.

Nettrice R. Gaskins, “Natty” (2024). Created using Midjourney v 6.1.

My GenAI image titled “Natty” is a visualization and reinterpretation of a 1923 poem by Jean Toomer titled “Portrait in Georgia.” The poem is from one of my favorite books titled Cane:

Hair–braided chestnut,

coiled like a lyncher’s rope,

Eye–fagots,

Lips–old scars, or the first red blisters,

Breath–the last sweet scent of cane,

And her slim body, white as the ash

of black flesh after flame.

Nettrice R. Gaskins, “Blistered” (2024). Created using Midjourney v 6.1.

In a 2010 article I wrote for Art21 I wrote about the face of the character Dom Cobb that is shown as contorted, emerging in slow motion from rushing slabs of water, like the tortured faces in several of Bacon’s works. The tortured faces in the Toomer-inspired GenAI images reminded me of Francis Bacon’s portraits as well as surrealism, a movement that asserts the power of the unconscious and dreams.

Relatively obscure artist Austin Osman Spare (whose work is not featured in the film) developed “idiosyncratic magical techniques including based on his theories of the relationship between the conscious and unconscious self.” — Art21

Nettrice R. Gaskins, “Cos-play” (2024). Created using Midjourney v 6.1.

Nettrice R. Gaskins, “Ember” (2024). Created using Midjourney v 6.1.

Certain fields do not come into their own until a tool that bridges the gap between circumscribed human experience and uncircumscribed human imagination comes along. And that, with the advancement of computers and AI, is very much the case with generative art. — Mieke Marple

“Cos-play” (above) began as a variation of “Natty” and “Blistered” and “Ember” (also above) represents “black flesh after flame”. When you see embers, the fire isn’t finished yet, but it’s almost done. I used “Vary (Region)” and “Pan” to add more ideas to the initial Midjourney output. This series of generative AI works go beyond the machine and representing mere words typed in a text field. It’s a back-and-forth, call-and-response interaction between 1920s poetry, deep (machine) learning aka generative AI, and symbolism that represents humanity symbolically through language and metaphorical images.