Do We Still Need Professional Artists?

baptiste tavernier with 3D printed artwork.

Let’s face it: with just a few clicks, anyone can now generate stunning visuals, well-crafted poetry, or professional-sounding music. If anyone can create art, why would we still need professional artists?

The commonplace answer to this is ”the human element”—the idea that art is about the artist's intent, the meaning, and emotional depth. But is it really?

In "The Death of the Artist", William Deresiewicz discusses how the romanticized figure of the artist—imbued with a sacred aura and elevated as a cultural visionary—was largely a product of the 19th and 20th centuries. This figure was supported by systems like galleries, publishers, and institutions that positioned art as a transcendent pursuit.

In contrast, he argues that the 21st century has shifted this dynamic. Artists are increasingly viewed as “producers” in a marketplace where their work is consumed alongside other content. The “aura” of the artist has been eroded by the digital age, where art is often seen as a commodity rather than something inherently sacred or unique. The sheer volume of content online, coupled with the rise of generative AI, has further blurred the lines between professional artistry and amateur creativity.

I find myself agreeing with this perspective.

Perhaps we could argue that while the “aura” of the traditional artist may be fading, a new form of artistry is emerging. In this future, artists might not be creators in the traditional sense but rather producers of thoughtfully curated experiences, with AI executing their vision autonomously and at scale.

In my own case, although I still create my designs by hand, I’m already observing how generative AI is evolving in the 3D field. It’s usable today, but the assets it produces are often impractical for 3D printing—they don’t account for crucial factors like bridges, overhangs or supports. That said, these tools are improving rapidly, and I may one day find myself acting more as a curator, sifting through AI-rendered outputs, keeping the gems, and discarding the common.

Not a professional artist anymore, but a producer indeed.

I’m looking forward to seeing how all this evolves. If you’re intrigued by the experiences I’m producing—like Kura Curiosa—feel free to follow me here and check out my website for more details. Let’s explore this future together.

Random Fragments of Me