The artist is fully focused, black oil paint in hand, he repeatedly draws a small circle on a bright brown canvas. He didn't mind that three men were watching his every move closely and didn't seem to notice my entrance into this bright white room at the National Gallery of Victoria.
The artist is a robot. More specifically, Basia is a 30 kg spot robot dog developed by Boston Dynamics. You've probably seen videos of these dogs opening doors, climbing stairs, and decorating Christmas trees, while performing incredibly smooth actions that make people write comments like: “I can't wait for this pack of dogs to join me. Don't stop." Go to the post-apocalypse. "Urban hell scene". The robot is designed perform work dangerous to people; They are commonly purchased by mining and construction companies, as well as the police and military. You may have seen them enforcing social distancing in Singapore, delivering food to hostages during a home invasion in Queens, dancing in a baseball stadium in Japan, or even in an episode of The Boba Fett Book. Now you can see how they draw.
Starting next week, three residents, Basia, Vanya and Bunny, will begin a four-month residency at the NGV Triennale in Melbourne, where they will create art in their own studios. It looks like a clinical kindergarten. There are ports where the robot "sleeps" and charges the battery; Small squares with QR codes are scattered around like toys, showing where the robots are at home
It is overseen by Agnieszka Pilat, an artist favored by Silicon Valley venture capitalists and a former SpaceX and Boston Dynamics artist. Pilat has been working as a technician in the paint department and in the field of paint technology for many years. He describes himself as a techno-optimist and loves robots; He even lives with Basia and walks with her in her New York neighborhood.
"Do you know any old cat ladies?" Tell me "My dream is to be an old robot. And I think it will be possible in 50 years."
Not everyone loves robots as much. When Pilate walks with Basia in New York, he always wears the appropriate yellow to signal to worried passers-by that the robot has a human companion. "It's better if the robot comes with a person, a woman is better," he says. "Take the edge off a bit."
Continuing to buy police jobs did not help. When the New York Police Department sends one armed with a camera to a home invasion in the Bronx and another to a hostage situation in Manhattan, a backlash ensues, and advertising becomes a symbol of misplaced funding priorities; The base model starts at $74,500. - fear of mass surveillance, and heavy policing in poor communities. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez tweeted, "Ground robotic surveillance drones are now being used to inspect grant-funded schools in low-income communities of color." The NYPD briefly canceled its contract with Boston Dynamics, but announced in April of this year that it would purchase two fully equipped stations for $750,000.
Last year, Boston Dynamics published an open letter pledging not to arm its robots and not let anyone else do so. The absence of weapons on Basia still doesn't remove the instinctive repulsion I feel, the suspicion that it might land on me at any moment.
"We have," said Pilate, touching the knee-high barrier around the studio, "because I won't touch it either." It's a really safe place.
"I know people think robots are coming ," he says with a shudder. "No, they're clumsy, they're like children." He added seeing my face. "My first reaction is probably no different than yours. To be honest, I don't really understand them. That's why I have to work with engineers. But I understand that they're interesting.'
Pilates worked with an engineer and his assistant to model the robots' "personalities" using a collage of artificial intelligence, software and machine learning. Basia is "serious", completely focused on his painting. Vanya is the "mom of the group" who looks around the room. And Bunny is an exhibitionist who, according to his schedule, regularly comes to take pictures in shop windows, which are specially designed for selfies.
"Art is the background of the selfie. That's what it's all about, right?' Pilate said rudely. "I do not regret it. When you go to a museum, everyone takes selfies. But we fully accept it. People will want to take pictures with robots."
Basia would paint about one canvas every three days; A total of 36 canvases, forming a kind of robotic manifesto told through 16 symbols; A primitive diagram of squares, lines and circles that Pilate designed based on the robot's physical capabilities.
"It's almost like kindergarten," she says "Basia will make mistakes." Can they surprise him? "Not often. But sometimes they do something we didn't expect and it gives you goosebumps. Sure, it's all programming, but it's the ghost of the machine."
Uniquely designed with Pilat technology. Growing up behind the Iron Curtain in Lodz, Poland, he vividly remembers his first encounters with technology; Adults huddle around a radio in a closed room listening to Radio Free Europe. "Technology has given me and my parents hope," she says "I really feel that technology has always been there for me. And now that there are so many difficulties related to strategy, I think I should return the debt to my old friend."
Pilates moved to Silicon Valley in 2004. After studying illustration and painting, he theorized that just as portraiture had appealed to the elite of the past, so it should appeal to the elite of today: the car. He approached an engineer at Boston Dynamics and asked him to draw a robot. Well, they said, but why paint when you can play with it?
Pilate often describes himself as a "propaganda artist" of the car, a nod to his childhood in communist Poland, where "art was just propaganda and art told you what to do." He later admitted that he was deliberately provocative. "It's a little ironic. I try to be 100% pro-technology, which is very controversial. Of course, there are legitimate concerns about technology. But I decided to make an effort and train him. This is my way of solving problems."
I should note that your art has the company logo on the front. "Removing the logo is a breach of contract," he replied. “I am bound by a confidentiality agreement and therefore can only reveal a certain number of things, but I am very aware of the financial dependence of the company. And I'm not [financially dependent on Boston Dynamics] because it puts my job at risk. I do not work for Boston Dynamics. I work for robots."
Boston Dynamics does not pay to use Pilat's robots. He has Basia, hired Vaniya and borrowed Bani from RMIT. But isn't he wary of the good PR that could come from robots doing something fun like painting instead of scaring people in the Bronx?
"It's the [Boston Dynamics] engineers who want me to do this, not the marketers or the CEOs," he says. “I think I'll give the robots a soft breath. But on the other hand, I'm a bit of a problem for them too, because they don't really need me. I go in and fool around with robots.
And he adds: "I'll tell you a secret. It's much easier for me to sell to collectors what I would have painted myself with my own human hands. There is resistance to machine operation. But I think this work is more important than me."
He believes "silly things with robots" help people better understand our future with robotics and artificial intelligence, a more complex vision than what they see in YouTube videos of police robots. "One of the reasons I'm excited to do this is because I understand the fear," she says. “I think we have a different relationship when you meet him. When I walk with them, people are friendly. They ask questions. If they have doubts, they tell me. But when a video of me walking with Basia surfaced on the internet, people started getting mad at me."
The NGV Show is a first in many ways. It's Pilates' biggest show and the first time he's left his robots to fend for themselves "I'll miss it," he said. "I'm famous. When I bring a robot, it's funny. If I'm poor, I don't exist. Nobody wants to take pictures with me on the street."
