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Reinventing Sounds, Texts, and Images: An Interview with Cole Bryant

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What is art? Andrei Tarkovsky was asked this question in Donatella Baglivo’s film A Poet in the Cinema. He responded with a rhetorical question: Before defining art—or any concept—we must first answer a broader question: what is the meaning of man’s life on Earth? Art, he suggested, symbolizes the meaning of our existence.

Today, as AI technology rapidly infiltrates various artistic fields, using the metaphysical distinction of “the way” versus the material distinction of “the tool” to differentiate between AI and humans seems overly simplistic. If the workings of the human brain can be fully understood and simulated, do our actions and thoughts still retain autonomy? Can human creations still be considered authentic representations?

Cole Bryant, photo by Eduardo Lopez-Perez

Cole Bryant, who studied at MICA and lived in Baltimore before moving to New York last year, is constantly immersed in creativity—whether drawing, sharing music, or exploring new ideas. His music blends lo-fi instrumentals, experimental soundscapes, and digital innovations, with a strong emphasis on integrating AI into his process. Initially drawn to AI for image generation, Cole soon recognized its potential in music production, using AI-generated art for album covers and collaborating with AI to blur the lines between human creativity and machine intelligence. His approach reflects a broader philosophy: creativity is ever-evolving, as seen in his genre-blending music, use of pseudonyms, and embrace of new technologies. This pushes the boundaries of modern art, challenging traditional notions of authorship.

In an era where technology reshapes the creative landscape, artists like Cole are redefining what it means to create. Known for his fluid identity in music style and diverse soundscapes, Cole explores different musical terrains under various pseudonyms—such as Butch Ankles, Toklas, and Scope Creep—constantly reinventing himself. Each alias represents a fresh start, a new chapter in his ongoing quest to remain adaptable and free. Cole uses AI tools to integrate his ever-evolving philosophical reflections and materialist dialectics into his music, “generating” songs that address these larger questions, while also offering an honest form of self-exploration through art. This echoes Tarkovsky’s ideas in “Sculpting in Time”, where he writes:

The truth of the phenomena represented in a work of art is further emphasized by the attempt to reconstruct the coherence of life’s logic. In the process of selecting and integrating these facts into an artistic whole, the artist inevitably reveals his personality.”

Cole Bryant, photo by Eduardo Lopez-Perez
Cole Bryant, "On the Instrumental Nature of Hibernations" Cover art digital collaboration with DeepAI.org and arranged in Preview

Why do you always use different pseudonyms for your music, like Butch Ankles, Toklas, and Scope Creep, etc., and why does the name change every year? Is there a specific purpose for it?

Cole Bryant: I never realized I did it every year—it’s such an impulsive, unthinking habit. Looking back, though, it ties into something I value as a creative person: staying adaptable and nimble. I don’t like being confined to one thing. For me, it’s about challenging myself and seeking freedom. Creating a new name allows me to start fresh.

Lately, I’ve come to appreciate this more because my reach is so small. I don’t feel pressured to stick to one name, so I take advantage of that freedom while I can. In popular music, it might be harder to adopt new aliases or band names due to the expectations of a larger audience. But I enjoy challenging myself, experimenting with different sounds, and not feeling bound to a single genre. I also like the idea of leaving breadcrumb trails for people to discover or stumble upon my projects.

Your music encompasses instrumental sounds with a lo-fi style, sampling, and even the use of AI tools to write songs, showing a diverse range of ideas. Are you trying to create a period style for your music?

Every time I start a new project, it’s an exercise for myself. Using GarageBand’s pre-existing sounds helped me make music that felt less serious or personal, which made the process more relaxed. I wanted to switch to a digital setup because I was tired of writing songs on guitar and pouring my soul into lyrics every time. GarageBand was easy and intuitive, and I thought releasing music this way might change how I approach other music forms. I don’t stick to a specific style—once, I even made a dubstep track because I decided to embrace the samples instead of avoiding them. My music, whether satirical or sincere, is always influenced by my experiences.

Cole Bryant, photo by Eduardo Lopez-Perez
Cole Bryant,"Gothic (Spirit of Revolt)" for Shiny Boy Press; Cover Art created in collaboration with Dalle2; July 2023. (Dithered 5 colors)

What was your intention in making music with AI generator tools?

AI-generated content first started appearing in my music as images. I began experimenting with various AI tools, without any specific intentions, just enjoying the process of seeing these fully-formed images emerge. I created hundreds of them. Around the time I was finishing my project, Skull and Bones, for the Gothic album, I was already using pre-made sounds to arrange songs. This created a certain distance between me and the music since I wasn’t directly playing the instruments.

The album cover for Skull and Bones was the first time I intentionally used AI, as a concept to further the idea of not fully creating the music myself. It was a kind of experiment. Using AI felt strange but also like a collaborative process. The prompts used to generate images with AI are poetic in themselves, almost like short poems, depending on their length. There’s a randomness to the process; you don’t really know where it’s drawing from, so you just trust it’s pulling from somewhere. It’s a bit like chance, similar to using what’s available in the GarageBand library.

Do you deliberately establish parallels between your ideas and AI-generated outcomes?

I think so. If I understand correctly, you’re asking whether my artistic intentions and concepts, even those outside of AI, are becoming integrated into the AI work? Yes, I believe it’s inevitable that this will happen for me.

Do you think this is just for you, or does it apply to everyone using AI tools?

I think everyone has to face this to some extent. Personally, I find that whether or not I’m consciously trying to incorporate my artistic goals into AI, it’s bound to happen, simply because I use these tools so much. In short, yes, it’s intentional. My approach as an artist has always been about exploring new ideas and experimenting. AI, as a tool, allows me to augment and facilitate my creativity, helping me search for and discover new things.

When I started using AI, it was just as much a mystery to me, but I’ve always been drawn to using accessible digital tools to express myself, even as a kid. This long-standing habit of pushing the conventions and norms of art-making has influenced my work with AI. Lately, it has become more integrated and intentional, rather than just seeing what happens.

Cole Bryant, photo by Eduardo Lopez-Perez
Cole Bryant, "Gentle Myth of Iodine Oceans" Cover art and digital collaboration with Adobe Illustrator's new text to image generation algorithm. (Beta Version May 2024.)
When the camera was invented, it pushed artists to find new ways of expressing themselves, leading to movements like Impressionism. It wasn’t the camera itself but the response to it that revealed new artistic truths. Similarly, AI may not directly produce profound truths, but our reactions and adaptations to it will reveal new aspects of humanity. Like the camera, AI challenges us to reconsider what we value and how we express ourselves.
Cole Bryant

Do you see these AI generators as tools or collaborators? And do you think you are in control of that?

It’s important to define what control means in this context. With any new tool, there’s an element of unpredictability, but I still feel in control—more in a sci-fi sense. I don’t feel like it’s controlling my mind or anything. I’m the one providing input and I’m curious to see what AI does with it. Then, based on that, I’ll ask the next questions. Sometimes I use them purely as tools, other times as collaborators. For example, with the albums I release under the name Scope Creep, AI is essentially a collaborator. All the album artwork for Scope Creep is generated using AI.

You use them as tools to write songs and album covers under your alias of Scope Creep. How do you “collaborate” with AI generators to begin an album? How does it end?

Honestly, I’m still figuring that out. I know an album starts when I’m excited and obsessively creating music. I tell myself I’m making an album, but in reality, I’m just making demos or sketches. Over the past three albums, I’ve found that when I return to those sketches a month or two later, I’ve accumulated enough songs to form a complete album. There often isn’t an intentional narrative connecting the songs. The common thread is usually the emotion or tone, which becomes the underlying concept. I’d love to make a coherent concept album one day, but for now, my excitement leads me to create a collection of random songs.

The AI-generated art comes at the end and is usually dictated by the album’s title. The artwork you see is almost always generated from the title, which adds a novel-like concept to the project. With many of these albums, there are no lyrics, so the title and artwork serve as the initial prompt for listeners, setting the tone before they even hear the music. I love using words, and the titles act as a secondary prompt for listeners. The first experience is the visual one—the artwork—which often looks like a painting, and then the music follows. It’s like using AI to make music where text becomes the instrument.

As an artist, do you think AI technology is an open door to the future of creativity and music?

It’s a controversial topic, but I think it’s important to broaden my understanding of how to interact with AI. I see it both as a collaborator and as a tool that can handle some of the more tedious tasks, allowing me to focus on the aspects of the creative process I value most. Rather than an open door, I’d describe AI as an open window—an opportunity for fresh ideas to come in. It’s up to each person to decide whether to open that window. Ultimately, the door to the future is always open, driven by the individual’s emotions and self-expression.

Do you think AI can mimic emotions?

It’s hard to pinpoint. While AI can create images or sounds that evoke emotion, it can’t truly replicate the depth of human experiences and cultural backgrounds. I believe that anything, even inanimate objects, can make us feel something, so it’s less about AI mimicking emotions and more about how we react to what it creates. My work with AI has taught me the importance of understanding myself and my emotional input. This self-reflection is key to how I use AI creatively.

Cole Bryant, photo by Eduardo Lopez-Perez
Cole Bryant, "The Supreme Importance of this Nameless Spectacle" Title derived from William Carlos Williams 1923 "Spring and All" and used as a text prompt for DeepAI.org image generation algorithm. Unedited image, with AI generated, increased fidelity.

Is it possible to express a profound truth about using modern techniques?

Yes, I believe modern technologies can reveal profound truths, much like historical innovations did. When the camera was invented, it pushed artists to find new ways of expressing themselves, leading to movements like Impressionism. It wasn’t the camera itself but the response to it that revealed new artistic truths.

Similarly, AI may not directly produce profound truths, but our reactions and adaptations to it will reveal new aspects of humanity. Like the camera, AI challenges us to reconsider what we value and how we express ourselves. However, AI brings additional ethical complexities that weren’t present with previous technologies, and these need careful consideration.

Are you referring to still images or moving pictures with the camera example?

I’m specifically talking about the invention of the still camera. When it emerged, painters and illustrators worried it would replace traditional art forms. This fear led to a shift in artistic focus, where the value was placed on capturing the impression of light and color rather than realistic depiction. The advent of the camera made artists and society rethink the purpose of painting, pushing them toward new creative expressions. While AI isn’t the same as the invention of the camera, it similarly forces us to reevaluate our creative processes and what we hold valuable. The ethical and cultural implications of AI are more complex, and we’re still exploring what those will mean.

Do you feel an existential crisis when making art with AI? Does it feel too easy and make you doubt yourself?

Sometimes, that feeling creeps in, but overall, no. In the beginning, I might have felt that way, but now I see AI as something that enhances my creative process. It helps me reflect more deeply on the emotions I’m expressing, both consciously and subconsciously. The process of creating has always been the most important part to me, more than the final product. Art has always been my way of understanding myself, especially when I feel misunderstood or alone. That necessity to express how I feel will always drive me to create.

I’m unsure how AI will change the way I value the end product. It’s not just about how something looks or sounds; it’s about the meaning and emotion behind it. AI might force people to reevaluate what they truly value in art. If AI can do certain things better than we can, we have to ask ourselves, what do we care about in art?

Cole Bryant, photo by Eduardo Lopez-Perez
Cole Bryant, "12 AI Generated Church Hymns" Album Cover created with DeepAI.org and ChatGPT and arranged in Adobe Illustrator.
In a world of mass production, I believe it's important not to be too precious about the original. As an artist, I encourage others to borrow, alter, or even mess with my work. I find excitement in the idea that my work can evolve and change. It’s about the spirit of making art, rather than holding onto an original version.
Cole Bryant

How do you use AI tools in art without falling into the trap of homogeneity?

It’s similar to using a music streaming service. The algorithm suggests similar music based on what you’ve listened to, which can make everyone’s tastes converge. When I use Spotify, I try to dig deeper, almost like crate digging, to find unique music. As for AI, I don’t know if it will lead to homogeneity, but I believe that if everything becomes the same, I’ll find a way to stand out. Too much of the same thing eventually creates friction. I hope people will engage with AI creatively now, before it becomes too standardized, to help shape its use for future generations.

To make a pictorial comparison, it goes without saying that when Van Gogh adopted Millet, he respected the painting he was adopting. In visual design, how much fidelity should the truth of the image be preserved?

Transparency is crucial. When using AI, I always credit the tools and developers involved. I think about John Berger’s views on the reproduction of images. In a world of mass production, I believe it’s important not to be too precious about the original. As an artist, I encourage others to borrow, alter, or even mess with my work. I find excitement in the idea that my work can evolve and change. It’s about the spirit of making art, rather than holding onto an original version.

How do you see sound integrating into the overall meaning of music or of your work? Is there some precise correlation between visual reality and sonic reality?

Sound and visual art reveal different aspects of my mind. Both have helped me learn to love myself and understand my feelings. They often intersect, like in film, showing their power together. Sometimes I can’t express how I feel through visual art alone, so I turn to sound. I remember once, feeling alone in Baltimore, I used a ruler to create sounds on a desk, adjusting the frequency by changing the distance to the corner. These experiences show that I will use whatever means necessary to express and understand my emotions.

The closest correlation I can draw is that both visual and sound realities are my personal form of spirituality. They bring me as close to a religious experience as I think I can get. Art helps me feel compassion for myself and find my purpose. If spirituality is about centering oneself with the unseen, then art is my way of finding that center. My purpose is to share what I create to inspire others, which is why I want to become an art teacher eventually.

 

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