Computing the Energy Function of Great Artworks

tl;dr

I’m currently working on a computer vision project to implement seam carving, which is explained quickly in this video by the technique’s inventors. The goal of seam carving is to allow for content-aware image resizing. Part of this algorithm is a numerical method to identify the ‘important’ content of an image (at least w/r/t re-sizing). I wanted to see what this algorithm would ID as ‘important’ in some great artworks from history. So I ran the algorithm on some of my favorite paintings (low-res versions from the internet) and am sharing the outputs here.

Brief Technical Explanation (skip if not interested)

The short story is that seam carving allows us to re-size images without distorting the important details. Seam carving is the process of finding connected paths of pixels with “low energy” running through the image–call these paths seams–and then removing those seams instead of a full column or row which might intersect with something important in the image, like a person’s face, the edge of a large object, etc… The easiest way to get an overview is to watch the video above, but hopefully that’s a succinct enough explanation for anyone impatient like me.

The first step in implementing the seam carving algorithm is to compute what’s called the energy function of the image’s pixel gradients. We can do this by plotting the image’s grayscale values (0-255) in a 2D matrix, applying a filter to identify edge gradients in both the x-direction and y-direction, and then computing the magnitude of each pixel’s edge gradient, weighing the x-gradient and y-gradient equally: (i.e. — sqrt(x^2 + y^2) ). If that doesn’t make a ton of sense yet, don’t worry. The video is the easiest way to understand the concept, and reading the paper is the easiest way to understand the process. This is just the super succinct version. (I also probably explained it badly.)

The Energy Function Code

The Good Stuff

Okay, so now we can compute the energy function of any image.

And the supposed output of this energy function is a mapping where the the important details of the image–the ones we don’t want to carve out when we re-size–are represented in higher intensities of white. The less important details of the image are represented in darker shades of gray and black.

So my question is what happens when we run historical artworks through this algorithm? Does it tell us anything new and novel about artist, his techniques, etc? I’ve always heard that the really well educated and expert art historians can confirm or deny the veracity of an artwork by looking at brush strokes, and the like. I’ve also read stories about taking x-rays of famous artworks, and revealing hidden paintings beneath.

For the most part I’ll let you decide, but in any case, I found some of the outputs to be really beautiful and interesting in their own right. Enough talking for now, here’s the imagery.

You’ll have to click through to see the images in full-size (bottom right button in popup after clicking on the thumbnail), and some of the more interesting details need magnification, which requires downloading the images, just as a heads up.

Da Vinci

 

Picasso

 

Bacon

 

El Greco

 

De Kooning

Vermeer

 

Closing

There’s a lot more that can be done with this, of course, and this post has no real analysis, conclusions, or anything of the like. But I wanted to share what I was playing around with, in case anyone else finds it interesting, like I do. -t

 

On AI-Assisted Creativity

tl;dr

In which I suggest, quite longwindedly, that the next great avant-garde movement in art & music & writing will be AI-Assisted Creativity. I’ll probably edit this later, but it’s something I want to think through and am happy to talk with others about. I’m genuinely very interested in the future of art/creativity and also wondering about others’ opinions and views, where mine fall short, etc.

The First Realization of the Avant-Garde Dream

Before I got into software, I wanted to be an artist. My main focus was on avant-garde art, doing something new, and pushing boundaries—eventually with the goal of merging the mundanities of our everyday lives with our artistic output, such that the entirety of our existence becomes a single, continuous, expressive work of art.

This was the goal of the Happenings in the sixties, the Dadaists in the 20s, even Andy Warhol when he essentially suggested art was all around us, even at the grocery store. (In a strange way this is something akin to the old zen-philosophy, of fully *being* in every moment, seeing its beauty.) And it’s still the goal of performance art that breaks the boundaries between life and performance, like Sleep No More in NYC, and many others across the world. The point is this: you no longer know where reality ends and artifice begins. Because of this, ideally, everything is a form of joyful, creative expression, nothing is ‘work’, and we get lost in an ideal world where we can be artists not workers at some job we don’t care about.

At first, this seemed like a desirable goal to me, and it seemed like it was becoming increasingly possible with more and more online media outlets like YouTube, and Instagram, Facebook and others allowing us to document and color every moment of our lives however we’d like. Every meal, every night out, every workout, all of them can become part of the artwork that is your life—as you present it anyway—a sort of of online self portrait that’s always a work in progress and might just live forever as pure electricity flowing around our planet from satellite to satellite, computer to computer, long after you’ve turned to dust.

There’s something wild and Romantic about that notion, and back in 2009 or 2008, saying those kinds of things at art classes in a University got lots of people angry. But here we are, in 2016, and that’s more or less what happened at some level. Today, I’d suggest, the dream of the avant-garde of the 20th century has largely been fully realized: all of our lives are one continuous artwork, and every moment we’re making art, working on those self-portraits, whether we like it or not. We’re writing, we’re taking photos, films, always and obsessively critiquing.

However, the dream has been realized perversely. Rather than turn everything into joyful creativity, it’s turned all of our lives into one continuous exercise in content farming—it’s not artwork, it’s just **work**, and sometimes even __getting a job__ requires social media presence as a daily necessity. And more pointedly, rather than allowing using to create artwork for our own joy and benefit, we generally cede all copyrights to companies the second we hit post, send, or click.

None of this is news, but the point I’m intending to make is this:
 1) In the 20th century, experimental artists desired to merge art and life together, this was called the avant-garde
 2) By the early 21st century this dream has succeeded. In countries like the United States, many people spend their entire day creating artwork (writing, photos, videos) on platforms like Instagram, or YouTube, etc, Twitter, etc.
3) But rather than freeing artists from the strictures of work and labor, turning life into a wild, creative dream, it’s generally created a more subtle dystopia, where creating artwork is an extra necessary part of daily life
4) So, while the Avant-Garde dream has succeeded, it’s also failed, and in doing so, it’s planted the seeds for the next great trend in artistic innovation, namely: where do we go from here?

Where do we go from here?

Okay, so the Avant-garde dream succeeds, but it creates its own problems, at least in this conception. Now we’re all artists, but we’re giving away our artistic work & hence our very lives to companies that subtly control us in more ways than we really know, and we do so *by the very act* of creating the artwork that we’re more or less necessitated to produce in order to succeed in 21st century life. (When’s the last time you tried to apply for a job that didn’t want to see your personal ‘fun’ Github projects, your witty Twitter comments, or your LinkedIn profile?)

My suggestion is that the really innovative artists will take things one step further. They’ll attempt to merge our digital lives with the very algorithms that control them.

There’s long been a movement, in both software and art, to create programs that allow us to generate artwork, or music, or writing that is more or less indistinguishable from that created by a human. There are reasons for this, and besides being cool, it serves as a basis Turing Test of sorts for machine creativity and has implications for the P vs NP problem that forms the foundation of theoretical computer science. For instance: are all creative problems ‘solvable’ by computers in Polynomial time? And if so, aren’t we just computers, etc., etc…

That’s interesting stuff, but more interesting to me, and more groundbreaking is the idea of merging the computational infrastructure that makes up our digital lives with the artwork that we produce. That is: can we **use** AI algorithms to __supplement__ our creativity, rather than replace it altogether?

For example, here are two projects that I’ve come across recently which sparked my interest:

Both are attempts to computationally generate art that’s completely indistinguishable from human-created artwork. But they could be even better with a human touch. I think this kind of work is truly incredible, but only halfway there. We still need a human element, and by working with computers, we are taking the next step in avant-garde art, though I still wonder what the next set of repercussions may be.

Examples of what I’m thinking

  • Musical: A musical group where one of the improvising performers is an AI, and the others are reacting to this improvisation in real-time. This could be a way to spur creativity in the songwriting process.
  • Textual: Computationally generate a short story, or news article, and then have a human read through and improve it, cutting down the time to produce high-quality content by a huge factor
  • Visual: Computationally generate dozens of images based on some input criteria, maybe just the mood you’re in or ideas you have, then improve upon these for your final artwork

Practical Thoughts: Outsourcing Creative Work

The theme here is outsourcing creative work to computers, so *we* can produce higher quality work in shorter periods of time. Just like your programming IDE can generate the outline of your project, why not have an AI generate the outline of your novel?

Ideally, in doing so, we’ll be taking the next step in avant-garde art by once again rebelling against the idea of being forced to do ‘work’, outsourcing the hard/boring stuff to computers, and only making art that’s fun for us: when we feel like it, and how we feel like it. An algorithm can either subtly control us, or it can do our chores.

 

On Art, Information Theory, Compression, and Strategies for Investing in Artworks

tl;dr

How I think about art, and a proposal for how we might one day measure and quantify art, from the POV of computer science. Also: a novel strategy for making winning investments in the art world

Art and Use-value

I highly doubt this view is original, but I’ve never seen anyone else present it, and I feel like it’s the most practically useful way for me to view:

  1.  The purpose of art
  2.  What makes some artworks more successful (or better) than others

I’m less interested in giving a philosophical background for why someone might be interested these questions (there’s already enough written on that), so I’m going to jump right in.

I’ll present this as a very simple (and very informal) logical argument. I don’t think it’s ‘right’ in the sense that things are absolutely right or wrong (and honestly, I don’t care), but I think it’s an interesting and constructive way to view art (a subject I’ve always loved and been interested in). And moreover, as a student of computer science, I also believe this view offers a novel way to measure things we generally think of as intangible and subjective, such as ‘the quality of of an artwork’.

DISCLAIMER:  Except maybe in advertising agencies, the value of art has always been subjective, and it will hopefully remain that way–but I still wonder, maybe just as an intellectual exercise: is there a way that we might quantify art in terms of a specific use-value? I think there is. And details are below.

Propositions

The Purpose of art
1) The purpose of art is to transmit to emotional information

How to judge the quality of art
2) If the purpose of art is to transmit emotional information, then artwork that transfers more emotional information can be said to be of ‘higher quality’
3) Since large artworks (think: a novel of 3,000 pages, or wall-sized painting) have more opportunity to transfer emotional information than small artworks (think: a 10 page short story, or 5x5inch painting) —> THEN: the best way to measure the quality of an artwork is not just the *amount* of emotional information it transfers, but how much emotional information it transfers given its size.

  • That is, what we really want to measure is emotional information density, emotional entropy.
  • And specifically: the more emotion that gets packed into an artwork, the better.
  • Here’s a graphic I made using Balsamiq. It’s crude and kind of sarcastic, but you get the point:

    art_and_info_theory
    Click for larger version

 Art as compression
4) In computer science packaging information into a smaller file format so that it can be more easily transferred is called compression. There are many compression algorithms, and some are better than others at different tasks. The goal of compression, very simply, is this: Package as much information as you can into the smallest file size possible. Then transfer it to another person. That person de-compresses the compressed file and gets ALL of the information, even though it was transferred in a much smaller package.

  • My suggestion is this: We can think of an artwork as the compressed file. We can think of the emotional content the artist is trying to convey as the compressed data. And we can think of the an artist’s technique or creative strategies as his compression algorithm. The better the algorithm, the more the data gets compressed, and the more information we can transfer in less space.

The role of artists
5) Following this analogy, I suggest that: the role of artists is to put as much emotion as possible into their package (the artwork) so that these emotions can be experienced across time and space. And the more emotional information an artist is able to transfer, the better the artwork. The goal of art, really is information transfer, a very specific kind of communication. We want to make others feel a certain way: We want to make others know that someone is there for them. That we all feel the same emotions sometimes. That there can be transcendence, that there can be an end to metaphysical sadness—this and so much more. All of it can be possible, and there’s a role for all of it.

What it means practically
6) For artists: Think very carefully about the emotional content you intend to transfer to others. If your goal is to make others feel specific emotions, then what emotions do you want to share, is there a sort of responsibility that comes with being a tremendously gifted artist? (I mean, I wouldn’t really want to paint things that made everyone feel desolation and sadness, rather than profundity, transcendence and stillness.)
7) For computer scientists: Using this heuristic, maybe it’s possible to evaluate a body of work from different historical artists and determine the ‘most artistic’ of them all. For instance: take all the paintings in a given museum, and ask visitors to rate the amount of emotion they experience while looking at them (say on a 1-100 scale). Then, normalize this data based on the size of the artwork, and see which painting has the highest ‘emotional entropy’: The most emotional content given its size. Is this the greatest, or ‘most artistic’ artwork in museum? Either way, it’s hard to argue that it’s not the most successful.

How to make money from it =)

(see, I wasn’t just BSing about use-value)

This gets even more interesting once we think: Can we tie emotional entropy to historic auction prices? If there’s a relationship, and we can establish that, couldn’t we use this relationship to identify the contemporary artworks (even from relatively young or unknown artists) that will one day sell for the most money? And if so, shouldn’t we start buying them all immediately? There’s a business idea there that’s free for the taking… I’m being somewhat sarcastic, but in all seriousness, I think it would be very interesting to examine this data and try, even as an experiment. So if you’re similarly interested, feel free to contact me.