Ai-Da and the Art of Storytelling: Reflections on Art, AI, and the Market
- Jenny Munoz
- Mar 22
- 5 min read
Ai-Da, the world’s first ultra-realistic humanoid robot artist, made headlines when her mixed-media artwork A.I. God. Portrait of Alan Turing (2024) sold for $1,084,800 at Sotheby’s. In this article, I reflect on my encounter with Ai-Da, which led me to question both her and her creator, the art market’s role in shaping perception, and, ultimately, what we define as art.
Originally published on my Substack, Existential Nomad, in November 2024.
This past November, at The Courtauld Institute of Art, I attended a lecture entitled "Tomorrow's Art? With Ai-Da Robot." The subject of the evening was Ai-Da, the world's first ultra-realistic humanoid robot artist, and her creator, Aidan Meller, an Oxford art dealer and gallerist. Intrigued by Ai-Da's fast rise in the art world—her exhibitions at the Venice Biennale and the V&A, her keynote addresses at the United Nations, to name a few, as well as her impressive media presence—I was eager to see firsthand the intersection of art, A.I., and the marketplace that Ai-Da so provocatively inhabits. What unfolded was both surreal and thought-provoking, raising more questions than answers about the authenticity of the robot endeavor, the philosophy behind it, and the role of the art market in shaping contemporary artistic narratives.
Ai-Da, named after the 19th-century mathematician and computer programming pioneer Ada Lovelace, is a curious spectacle: a robot that blends human features with mechanical reminders of her artificial nature. Her silicone-coated face, with delicate features and a sleek black bob, is designed to evoke humanity. Yet, her exposed robotic arms and fixed, welded feet are an unambiguous sign of her true mechanic nature. Dressed in a navy tank top and denim overalls for the evening, Ai-Da's appearance seemed designed not only for function but as part of an elaborate strategy to reinforce the "artist" persona. Was this wardrobe choice a tactical effort to humanize her, or simply a utilitarian one?
But how does Ai-Da create art? In the same way that contemporary artists like Damien Hirst or Jeff Koons rely on studio assistants to execute their vision, Ai-Da's creations come to life through a unique collaboration of advanced A.I. algorithms, robotics, and human technicians that are her studio assistants. While her work is generated through an intricate computer code system, the question of authorship remains muddled. Ai-Da, like an artist surrounded by assistants, is unable to conceive original ideas—her work is the product of a human-directed mechanism. This raises the question: what makes an artist? Is it the thinker- the creator of an idea, the one who physically executes the final piece, or is it both - the idea followed by the execution that makes an artist? In Ai-Da's case, who is the true artist? Is it Meller and his team of engineers or the robot who cannot reflect upon her creations?
The evening at The Courtauld was as much a masterclass in storytelling as it was in art. Aidan Meller shared the story of how Ai-Da came into being, recounting a pivotal moment when a young artist approached him in his gallery, seeking representation. Although he admired the work, Meller was not ready to take the risk on an emerging artist. This encounter led him to ask, "What makes great art?" His answer was simple the audience's reaction defines great art. From this realization, the idea of Ai-Da was born—a machine capable of generating art that challenges the very nature of creativity in an age dominated by artificial intelligence.
Meller's background as a blue-chip art dealer specializing in historical artworks by dead artists is central to understanding his motivations. Representing artists who are alive and in the early stages of their careers requires time, patience, and risk—qualities that Meller has cleverly circumvented by dealing art by dead artists whose art has already an established value in the art market and by working with a robot artist. By building Ai-Da, he has engineered a solution to a problem that many in the art world face: establishing value and demand for emerging artists in a saturated art market. Ai-Da's skyrocketing career in art is due to Meller creating a perfectly packaged product that is great for marketing. The spectacle of a humanoid robot drawing from algorithms is designed to provoke existential debates and capture an audience, which seems to be working perfectly thus far.
When asked about Ai-Da's financial value during the Q&A, Meller deflected, claiming that his focus was on the philosophical and creative implications rather than on economics. Yet, as an experienced dealer, he knows exactly what he is doing. The narrative of Ai-Da, a robot artist capable of creating art, is not only captivating but a carefully crafted spectacle that taps into the zeitgeist and fuels market demand. On the project's official website, a waitlist for purchasing Ai-Da's works suggests that exclusivity is at the heart of this project. The irony here, of course, is that Ai-Da's creations could be replicated infinitely, yet the manufactured scarcity surrounding her works reflects the art world's obsession with exclusivity.
Ai-Da's recent success at Sotheby's in early November further underscores the calculated nature of this venture. Her mixed-media artwork A.I. God. Portrait of Alan Turing (2024) sold for $1,084,800—far surpassing its pre-auction estimate of $120,000 - $180,000. The high price is less about the artistic value of the piece and more a reflection of the media frenzy and novelty surrounding the idea of a robot artist. In this case, what are buyers really purchasing? An artwork of profound insight? Or merely a piece of A.I. history, a conversation starter, a trending topic?
The success of Ai-Da's art at auction exemplifies a troubling trend in contemporary art: the elevation of spectacle over substance. Her works sell not because they are profound but because they are trending. They cater to collectors seeking the latest talking point rather than meaningful engagement with art. This phenomenon underscores a broader reality: great marketing often overshadows great art.
The evening left me with a distinct sense of unease. As I listened to Meller's presentation, I couldn't shake the feeling that Ai-Da is less about art and more about commodification—an experiment in how far one can push the boundaries of what is considered "art" while capitalizing on the art market's thirst for novelty. Ai-Da's art does not spring from human emotions. Instead, it feels like a surreal commentary on the art world's capacity to commodify anything, even a machine.
So, I leave you with this: Tomorrow's Art? If art is defined by human emotion, intention, and connection, can an unconscious machine truly create it? Or are we merely witnessing a reflection of our own desires—our fascination with innovation, our appetite for spectacle, and our complicity in a market that prioritizes novelty over meaning? Perhaps Ai-Da's real artistry lies not in her creations but in the mirror she holds up to us. What do we see in it? And, more importantly, what does it say about the art of today and the future we’re crafting?
If you’re interested in diving deeper, I’ve embedded the lecture I attended at The Courtauld Institute of Art below. I highly recommend subscribing to The Courtauld’s YouTube channel—their lectures are free, insightful, and well worth watching.
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Thank you for being part of this journey!
xx Jenny