David du Plessis

I have been thinking about the future of illustration lately with the advent of AI. Are we led to believe that illustration is one of the first crafts to go? The best analysis of this question so far I’ve found in The AI Con:

We’re writing about the seemingly disparate fields of art, science, and journalism in the same chapter because creativity is at the heart of all of these fields. These fields are often the targets for those seeking to prove the ‘intelligence’ of their AI systems. But synthetic artifacts that look like the products of these fields aren’t evidence of creativity of the machines. To the extent that there is any value at all, it is due to the creativity of the human workers who produced the original art, science, or journalism that was appropriated as training data.

A framing that I would go for is that illustration is about making the invisible visible in a particular context to convey meaning. It reveals something that is otherwise hidden from us. Now AI can probably also do this in a serendipitous way, but how would AI decide what to make visible? Well, we would create restraints, guardrails, skills etc., to guide the output that we want. In wanting to tell a particular story with an image I have not had great results with AI.

In line with this train of thought, my next experiment is taking shape. I love maps. I love history. How can I bring a subject to life by drawing the connections between things as opposed to focusing on the things themselves. My travels to cities that line the Atlantic has made me think about the history of the Atlantic – how people came to be where they are and the events behind it, how oceans are canvasses on which the trails of history unfolded. I’m exploring how to make an illustrated book following this principle. I’m not sure how to yet, but I’m sure to ask AI to help…

After doodling on a Saturday evening this guy appeared. I think it portrays my state of mind at the time – being away from home and battling with being by myself. Like battling a monster. He made me smile, and I felt better. His name is SKRIK. I think I’ll call him up again. Afrikaans: SKRIK en die Ondier.

The bad guy phoning his master.

Random shapes become artworks. I love it when the byproducts of a process become works themselves. I’m tempted to transform them into paintings.

Sunday morning studio time. What to do next?

It has taken five years, but it is finally here. Moord in Ixia Straat the Afrikaans graphic novel by Sjaka S Septembir, Swart Streep, and Willem Samuel.

The book will be launched on the 9th of September 2017 at the Open Book Festival in Cape Town.

There are 300 copies available on pre-order at bal-oog.co.za/orders. The offer ends on 16 July 2017.

Scene from a new story taking shape about a gang of abalone smugglers who run into trouble.

It’s been three and a half years, but two days ago I made a drawing again. It bothered me that so much time had passed without producing any new work. As time went by I became increasingly hard on myself for not having the discipline and mental stamina to sit down and make a start. Doubts started surfacing: would I even know what to do when I picked up a pencil again?

So on Sunday I got to work. It was hard going at first. Sitting still can be difficult. But after two hours or so I became calm. I guess it’s what you’d call getting into the ‘flow’. Experiencing the flow is one of the reasons I make illustrations. It doesn’t bother me that some of them take a lot of time to make.

So when I was in this state of flow the past three and a half years replayed itself with a clarity that I don’t have in the day-to-day busyness. This is what I had been through: changed company four times, moved house five times, rebuilt one house, had a child, changed countries, and both my parents passed away.

In that moment of clarity I was thankful for the ability to sustain the love of drawing when life becomes too complicated to find time and stillness. And I’m grateful to myself for the time and dedication that I’ve put into the art of drawing, knowing that when the time comes the flow will always be there.