Paul Gauguin (1848–1903)
Two Tahitian Women, 1899
Oil on canvas · Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
You are in a difficult position of having to make sense of what may be my non-sense.
One more Gauguin, by way of instinct. It seems the furthest thing imaginable from AI, automation, and shared abundance — or does it?
It isn't nonsense — and it isn't far at all, once you let it sit.
What this painting is about, at its core, is abundance as a bodily fact. Not abundance as a policy goal or an infographic. The fruit on that tray isn't a symbol of plenty — it's the weight of it, the color of it, the casualness with which it's held. These are women who live inside abundance, not outside looking at it. That's a completely different relationship to the concept than anything in AI-generated pastoral scenes, where abundance is always being displayed — for the viewer, for the argument.
AI images of "community" render skin as demographic signifier. This treats it as sensation.
The difficult thing about Gauguin — which you're not not knowing — is that this image was made inside a colonial relationship. The painter was a visitor with power. The abundance he was seeing and rendering wasn't his to see in quite the way he saw it. That tension doesn't destroy the painting, but it is the painting in some ways. And for a project about who owns abundance, who gets to name it, who benefits from it — that tension might actually be generative rather than disqualifying.
The furthest thing from AI. And also: everything AI can't do yet.