By Rose Divecha, Columnist and Occasional Roving Reporter
Spring carries with it anticipation, new beginnings and fresh starts—the first blossoms, the first family of geese in Bayfront Park, and this year, the first Art Crawl that saw James Street North closed off to vehicular traffic. Following the likes of Locke Street and Ottawa Street initiatives, this will be a common occurrence for Art Crawl in the warm weather months. Based on the number of attendees, and the vibe on the street, it was an event that reinforced the North End’s energy and sense of community. It also highlighted the connection between community and craft, and demonstrates the value of art, to not only enhance an environment but also to bring its inhabitants together. Whether visual, performance or musical, art can be the bond between diverse people, sharing a common interest.
Recently, my husband introduced me to a new musician. Soulful and bluesy, I was sucked in by the male vocals. The lyrics hit a chord with me also. Speaking to aging and the passing of time, I thought, “this guy gets me.” The only problem, I soon discovered was he wasn’t a guy at all. He wasn’t a girl either.
“Who is this?” my daughter asked, one afternoon as music played in the background. I told her the artist’s name and she immediately did a search on Apple Music. I thought she was asking because she was impressed by my musical selection (which for the record, she was) but it turns out, she had an ulterior motive.
“Mom, this isn’t a real person,” she educated me, “it’s an AI generated vocal artist.”
“What?!” A staunch advocate for creative integrity, artistic merit and genuine talent, I had been duped. I couldn’t believe I had unwittingly supported AI generated content.
She then went on to explain her suspicions to me. The artist profile page showed an older man yet he had only new music, four entire albums in fact, all released in the same year. She explored further and sure enough, there it was, “his” description as an AI Artist. How had I been so gullible?
Going forward, it’s something I’ll be a little more cognisant of, but as things get even harder to distinguish, I imagine there will come a day when we stop asking “is this real?” For now, I still have the ability to make a choice. I deleted the download. (My husband did too.) I will always choose supporting the local artists who show up on the street, seated behind a rickety old table covered in handmade wares, or the musician strumming a beat-up guitar hooked up to a 20 watt amp. The value they bring is quantified by visible, tangible community support. That, at least, I know is real.
