Social media ruined art before AI did
A writer at the Frederick News-Post says social media played a part in dulling artwork well before AI ever did:
Even before artificial intelligence began delivering its tepid conglomeration of “art” and reducing us all to idiocy, social media was already working to make “art content” look depressingly bland.Something to consider is that artists who do have talent and draw competently, whether with a cartoonish or serious style, were victimized over the past decade by people who despise creativity, beauty and hated sex-positivity. That's not all, of course. The online neo-communists also made exaggerated or outright false accusations of racism/sexism, and that's one of the reasons we arrived at the sad situation we're at now with the mainstream, if anything. Twitter/X had by far the worst examples of what also became cancel culture, something Mark Millar spoke about in the past year, and it's bound to be years before the damage is mended, if at all.
I, like many in the profession of comic book art, have dabbled in social media in the vain attempt to muster likes, follows and subscribers and, ostensibly, pick up a commission or two. In reality, I’ve come to realize I was trying to beat back the yawning need for validation by turning to online strangers, while discovering that nearly every one of those strangers only wanted my work if it were free.
Curse my vanity! Damn that impostor syndrome!
Whatever I’m doing doesn’t play well with the new pantheon of algorithmic deities. I’ve failed comprehensively at building an online audience. Honestly, the effort takes time I’d rather put into the work itself. Besides, nobody needs to see my grizzled old face explaining how a pencil works. I’m better suited as an invisible author.
Anyhow, the game is rigged. The house — Meta, TikTok, X and the like — always wins.
You may reasonably detect sour grapes here. Welcome to the vineyard.
I’m writing this especially for young artists starting out because I’d like them to avoid a trap I’ve felt tugging at my own ankles: producing bland, familiar work that people quite like, then mistaking their approval for artistic progress.
Artistic voice is that almost indefinable critical quality that sets your work apart, that fits some missing jigsaw piece in a reader’s emotions and creates frisson and resonance, scratching an itch they maybe didn’t know they had. Developing it takes time, experimentation and an embarrassing quantity of output you’d rather nobody saw.I think the mistake made here, if I'm reading correctly, is asking a potentially anonymous audience to give their stamp of approval, rather than experienced teachers and art critics. Relying only on social media drones is surely worse than relying on what might also be a dishonest teacher. And rest assured, of course mistakes happen, and you can't expect to reach peak talent in a fortnight, though I should note that there's a very sick segment of society that would be more than delighted to deceive, influence and shame somebody into delivering ugly, grotesque artwork that won't please consumers at all, and otherwise end the potential artist's career much sooner than expected. That's why social media is a very poor way of finding approval.
All you’ll get from social media is an audience and a scoreboard.
Consider the sketchbook. Mine needs room for mistakes. That’s rather the point. Yet the online sketchbook tour can look like a succession of finished illustrations, each waiting patiently for its merchandise deal. Nothing ugly. Nothing unresolved. God forbid, a badly drawn hand.
Experimentation can be anathema to the demand for consistently pleasing posts. You try something unfamiliar. It looks awkward, and you haven’t yet worked out whether it’s going anywhere or if it even will. That’s normal, but it makes a poor sales pitch in a feed full of polished drawings.
If you’re starting out, the danger is abandoning that experimentation because nobody clicked “like” before you learned what it might teach you. If every piece must be worth posting, where do you put the work that helps you improve? And where, in the interminable production line of performative “content,” do you find time to get better?
In comics, familiar legacy characters add another distraction. Batman arrives with decades of recognition, familiarity and popularity. We know who and what that character is. Any original character faces a steep hurdle to build an audience.A better social media site would probably be Deviant Art, and I vaguely recall Marvel staff once said a long time ago they wanted to hire and audition artists who hosted their artwork there, but in the years since, it's pretty apparent they didn't have faith in themselves, and several years back, they hired terrible scribes, quite possibly also because they're stunningly cheap. DC followed suit. Even today, things haven't recovered much. That's why it really doesn't make much difference whether you seek a job drawing Batman, because even Batbooks are far from selling in millions today, no matter what the press says about the Absolute line, and I would think that, if some publishers wanted to, they could figure out how to promote and market a creator-owned comic without having to worry the mainstream would literally trump all attempts to interest audiences in something unrelated. The superhero genre's long been demolished by PC, and there's opportunities at this point to promote stuff that could be science-fantasy, but doesn't have to be superhero-themed in every way. That's what modern marketers are missing.
If Batman brings attention, how many disappointing responses to your own creations do you tolerate before returning to the crowd-pleasing cowl? There’s nothing shameful about drawing him. But I do wonder how much work never develops because its creator decides the audience has already voted.
Then there are the recurring styles. In my feed, I keep encountering rounded “Steven Universe”-like cartoon figures, polished Disney-ish faces, manga-derived expressions and enough decorative crosshatching to suggest the comics boom inflicted some kind of 1990s Stockholm syndrome on a certain generation.
Influence is essential, and we all stand on the shoulders of giants, but the generic reward from social media audiences encourages artists to settle before those influences have been explored, questioned and absorbed into a personal visual language.
I'm sure there's what to learn from an account like this about how an aspiring artist wishes to find a career of some sort. But today's artists have to also consider that an online "audience" isn't really the way to go for seeking approval. If anything, artists who want to actually sell their work physically have to make it possible for consumers of physical media to decide with a finished product. And you need to make sure you can find decent teachers and other such specialists who can tell you whether your artwork's got potential, and encourage the artists to keep working to improve where necessary. One so-called veteran nobody should rely upon, however, is Rob Liefeld, based on how his artwork of the 1990s and 2000s was mediocre or just plain outright atrocious. And as some could tell you, he couldn't draw feet. It's a shame some publishers had to associate with such an incompetent scribe out of the notion they could actually make money based on how poor Liefeld's art was. That Capt. America illustration he turned out in the late 90s where Steve looked like a balloon was a most tellingly awful textbook example of how not to draw an admirable character. And unfortunately, there are all sorts of Liefeld-wannabes in today's industry landscape. Liefeld may try to sound like he isn't so PC himself at times on social media, but he did regrettably precipitate the modern situation back in the day, no thanks to various incompetent editors and publishers who could've avoided employing him if they wanted to.
If one's looking for talented artists and other educators who could be more reliable, they need to look for figures like J. Scott Campbell, to name but one worthwhile example. But of course, they could also look at various examples from throughout the decades to see what artists, old and new, were the most impressive, and that's another good way to develop some good skills. I hope modern artists will consider, and in addition, so long as Marvel and DC are hostage to PC and bad directions, that they'll avoid seeking jobs there at all costs. The creator-owned scene for now can have more potential, and that's where they should exercise their skills. And even consider developing projects that're built more on optimism, much like Superman and Fantastic Four.
Labels: censorship issues, history, misogyny and racism, politics, technology


