Category: Communication Design

For this impulse, I watched  the TED talk A Brief History of Rhyme by Baba Brinkman — a rap artist known for creating concept albums based on unexpected themes such as The Canterbury Tales or Charles Darwin’s theory of evolution. His approach blends performance, historical research, and linguistic analysis, making the talk an unusual mix between literature lecture, hip-hop seminar and even a small comedy show, he then proceeded to explain his unusual approach:

Brinkman began by explaining the evolution of rhyme from its simplest forms, for example the classic “car, far, star” or “house”, “mouse” type of end rhym towards more complex structures like as mosaic and multi-syllable rhymes. What I actually found fascinating was how he connected contemporary rap techniques to much older literary traditions. He did a lot of research and pointed out that The Canterbury Tales already experimented with rhythmic and rhymed structures, and that 17th-century works like Hudibras used extended multisyllabic rhymes that would later influence comedic verse. Even Don Juan from 1819 contains rhyme patterns that, according to Brinkman, resemble what we today associate with classic hip-hop rhyme schemes: “Oh ye lords of ladies intellectual; / Inform us truly, have they not henpeck’d you all.”

One of his key points was that multisyllabic rhyme traditionally appeared in humorous contexts. Historically, these rhyme patterns were used to create irony or satire rather than emotional depth. The only exception Brinkman found was a moment in Lord of the Rings where such rhyme structures appear in a serious, almost solemn tone which is a rare example where polysyllabic rhyme escapes its comic roots. He argued that modern rap has pushed this evolution further, showing that complex rhyme structures can carry serious emotional meaning. Tracks like “I Ain’t No Joke” by Rakim demonstrate that rappers use rhyme not only for performance but for vulnerability and identity but they  often feel the need to defend the genre against accusations of “not being serious.”

Brinkman also contrasted rap with contemporary poetry. While poets have mainly or often moved away from rhyme in favour of expression or free verse, hip-hop has kept rhyme alive by constantly reinventing its structure. According to Brinkman, rap is one of the last art forms where formal rhyme is still being innovated. The talk concluded with Brinkman performing a freestyle using increasingly complex multisyllabic rhymes based on the phrase “broken glass,” which made the linguistic theory suddenly very concrete and audible.

Ok but what does this have to do with communication design?

This talk sparked a new line of thinking for me: how does rhyme function visually? If rhyme in language is based on repetition, rhythm, and pattern recognition, could similar mechanisms exist in visual communication? And if so, how complex can these visual “rhymes” become before they lose recognisability? Brinkman’s distinction between simple end rhymes and mosaic/multisyllabic rhymes made me wonder whether design also has equivalents from clean, obvious visual parallels to more layered, subtle echoes in form, colour, structures or spatial rhythm.

For communication design, this raises questions about how humans perceive repetition, pattern, and variation and how these can influence emotional response or memorability. The talk made me realise that rhyme is fundamentally a cognitive tool that guides attention, builds expectation, and creates satisfaction when the pattern resolves. This is therefore extremely relevant for visual research.

Relevance for my potential Master’s thesis

I have already been thinking about researching how rhyme structures influence the recognition of visuals and this talk strengthened that idea. Brinkman’s historical framing showed that rhymes communicate not only through sound, but through structure. This makes it even more interesting to explore whether “visual rhymes” could work in a similar way:
– Are simple repetitions (the visual equivalent of “car–far–star”) more memorable?
– Can complex, multi-layered visual parallels function like multisyllabic rhymes?
– Could this influence how people engage with activist or feminist visual communication?

For a Master’s topic that connects design, maybe activism, and perception, exploring rhyme as a cross-modal phenomenon  from sound to image  could be an interesting direction and I feel like it could be fun researching this topic.

Links

Ted Talk https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8t4F83aHAXU

Baba Brinkmann https://bababrinkman.com/

By now, we have all been to this exhibition probably, but I wanted to mention it for my research as well since I went there a couple of times already and I think the exhibition is presented in a really nice way on different levels: It is visually appealing, interactive and has a good size to not be overflowed with information or feeling like there is something missing.

The exhibition focuses on one central question: How do we want to shape our society in the future? It highlights that democracy sometimes feels very static and abstract, but  it is something we practice every day, in big political institutions like the townhall, but also in very immediate contexts: workplaces, schools, families, and communities. The exhibition combines historical material about democratisation in Graz with current debates around participation, civil rights, social responsibility, and the fragility of democratic systems. What I found particularly meaningful is the idea that democracy is in constant movement. It requires reflection, dialogue, and sometimes the willingness to question our own assumptions.

The exhibition uses varied media to create this sense of movement and participation. The spaces are visually designed to invite curiosity rather than lecture the visitor. Instead of overwhelming explanations, each room opens a small question, theme, or personal story. The interactivity is also woven into the exhibition in a subtle but effective way through sticky dots, opinion walls, small surveys, and participatory prompts. Visitors are encouraged to position themselves, literally and metaphorically, and to see how diverse or fragmented collective opinions can be. It becomes clear that democracy is not only about “being loud” but also about observing and understanding how different perspectives coexist.

From a communication design perspective, this was one of the strongest aspects. The way the exhibition was structured felt democratic in itself: open, accessible, and balanced between information and personal engagement. The visual design was friendly and non-intimidating, with a tone that felt approachable but not superficial. This made it possible to deal with political content without creating emotional overload or polarization, something that is difficult to achieve in contemporary political communication, which tends to be highly charged or simplified. Also, when I spoke to the curator she also mentioned that they got criticized for putting in their own political views even though they tried to be as neutral as possible. This also reminded me that anything (regarding design in this case) can be unpolitical and I will always send some kind of message.

The exhibition also made me think about how communication design can contribute to democratic processes. Visual tools, spatial cues, and interactive elements can help people express opinions, reflect on their biases, or understand complex issues. The use of stickers, participatory questions, and tangible interaction points reminded me how design can facilitate dialogue rather than merely transmit information. In my own work regarding activism, protest, or subtle feminist interventions these ideas feel very relevant. Designing spaces for conversation rather than statements might be the wording and also a direction worth exploring.

How is this an impulse for my potential master’s topic?

This exhibition made me reflect again on the relationship between design and participation. A possible direction for my future research could involve exploring how communication design can create environments for democratic engagement in public space,  activist contexts, or through gamified interaction. It also connects to some of my earlier ideas around subtle protest and spatial behaviour: how can design help people understand power structures through experience rather than explanation?

Alternatively, this impulse could be relevant for my interest in globalisation and the communication of complex systems. Democracies depend on clarity, accessibility, and inclusivity; and design plays a huge role in how accessible political knowledge or decision-making feels.

In the context of my developing research identity, Demokratie, heast! serves as a reminder that design is never neutral. It mediates understanding, shapes participation, and creates frameworks for dialogue. Maybe my master project can explore how communication design can act as a facilitator of reflection and collective thinking through visuals, spatial, interactive and emotional design.

Links:

https://www.grazmuseum.at/ausstellung/demokratie-heast/

Starting this semester, I find myself in a strange in-between space: I know I’m supposed to move toward a Master’s topic, but instead of clarity I mostly feel a kind of conceptual restlessness. Every idea I touch opens up into three more. I’m interested in too many things, pulled in several directions at once, e.g. visual culture, politics, public space, feminism, design as a form of intervention rather than decoration.
So choosing just one topic feels way to definite, not sure if anyone is also struggling with this as well.

But three potential directions keep returning to me. They are not fully formed, but they feel like possible starting points or loose constellations of thoughts:

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1. Design Homogenization & the Global Aesthetic

One theme I keep circling around is the increasing sameness of contemporary design. Cities, ads, apps, brands or anything branded really -> everything is starting to look suspiciously uniform. Global companies rely on neutral sans-serifs, minimal palettes, clean universality. Instagram trends travel faster than local cultures can react.

This makes me wonder:

• What gets lost when visual culture becomes globally streamlined?
• How do local identities survive within systems that reward sameness?
• And what does “authenticity” even mean when aesthetics circulate so fast?

This topic pulls me in because it sits between design, culture, and the politics of globalization and because I feel this tension personally every time I walk through a city and can’t tell where I am anymore.

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2. Posters as Social Touchpoints

A second direction came to me by being showered with content about the pudding mit gabel events or the look-a like contests that all started because of some “badly” designed poster. Therefore, I’ve realized that posters don’t just communicate but they connect. They create tiny moments like someone stops, someone smiles, someone takes a photo, someone feels seen or irritated or even big moments like big events and community buildings. These different interactions fascinate me.

I’m curious about:

• How analogue media can trigger social encounters
• What kinds of posters invite participation or emotional response
• Why physical touchpoints feel increasingly valuable in an overstimulated digital world

This approach would let me stay close to the city as a living laboratory, observing how design behaves “in the wild,” and how people respond to different visuals and what they will act upon.

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3. Visual Protest & Everyday Feminist Interventions

The third direction ties into my long-standing interest in feminist protest. Not the big marches or iconic placards, but the small gestures – subtle, low-budget interventions that slip into daily life: stickers, posters in odd corners, tiny disruptions that shift the energy of a space. Basically what I have been researching for the past two semesters as well. I’ve been noticing how powerful these micro-protests can be, especially in gendered environments where a lot remains unspoken.

Some questions that orbit this theme:

• How does subtle visual resistance reshape public space?
• Which aesthetics make feminist protest feel urgent, playful, or subversive?
• What happens when protest becomes intimate rather than spectacular?

This line of thinking feels personal, political, and directly connected to the work I’ve been doing over the past months.

And Now?

Now I just have to decide… If anyone is reading these blogposts, I’d love to hear some opinions :)) (Actually might not even chose between these three ideas, even during writing this post, I got a few more ideas)

In the beginning of November, we visited the CoSa Museum in the Joanneumsviertel Graz with the whole study program to get inspiration for our own gamification approach. But I would like to use it as a topic for one of my Impulse posts as well as I found the different approach for a museum very interesting and even within the exhibition there were some interesting differences.

I saw two of the exhibitions, there are way more, but it takes a while to even go through one of them. The first exhibition was about finances – the history of it, how to handle it and how our world is managed by it. The exhibition started by handing each visitor a small card that could be used for quizzes throughout all the rooms that would save your points etc. Therefore, visitors would be more interested and hooked to actually go through all the rooms and do the tasks to – then in the end – do a checkout and get a receipt with your score. I think the Concept and approach was interesting and a good idea, on me it did not work at all, because the reward in the end was not enough fore me; for a friend on the other hand it worked really well, and she really wanted to do all the tasks because it was enough for her to gather a very high score. I found this observation very interesting, because it showed how different our rewardsystems in our brain work and how that plays with our motivation for a (rather dry) topic. Another reason why I did not like the exhibition that much was the fact that it was all just pretended gamification. What do I mean with that? One game was for example to steer a containership from Europe to South America (on a screen obviously) But after 2 seconds it was clear that you didn’t actually do anything for the movement and the controller were just fake for you to think that you have an impact on the game. And basically all of the games were like that, and I lost interest very fast and almost did not finish any of those games. Of course, you have to keep in mind that the normal target group for the exhibition is children or young people that are still in school, but I would guess that they are even less concentrated or have the attention for a non-working game.

The second exhibition was way more interesting, it was not specifically about one topic but covered things like optical illusions, illness and lab diagnoses, AI content or how a car is built. And from the second I stepped into the room; I immediately understood that this is actually gamified and not like the other exhibition. Even the rooms were designed in a way more intuitive and natural way, it was more chaotic but then way more interesting to discover the different areas of it. Even though there were no reward systems or anything that would hook you until the end. And it was very touch and do- based, a lot of buttons, cranks or shadows to play with. They built and actual hospital room were you could get “blood” from the patients and analyse them in the lab next to it – and also be wrong about things. I think thats actually a main and important factor about gamification – that you can fail or lose and have to try again. Therefore it feels more important and interesting.

Connecetion to communication design:

The visit made me think about how strongly spatial communication influences user experience and engagement. The first exhibition felt extremely flat because the space was designed in a very sterile, minimal and almost liminal way, it had clean colours and no real sense of discovery. It communicated education rather than interaction, and because of that, even the attempts at gamification felt forced. The second exhibition in comparison used space almost like a narrative tool. It allowed visitors to explore, wander, and follow their own curiosity. For communication design, this highlights how important the design of an experience is: gamification is not only about scores or tasks but about creating an atmosphere that encourages participation. Gamification depends on emotional involvement, and emotional involvement depends heavily on how a space (off or online) is constructed.

It also raised the question of how communication designers can intentionally build environments that support learning, experimentation and play without feeling manipulative or superficial. Good gamification is a form of communication design, and it works best when it creates meaning not just motivation.

How can I use this for a potential master topic?

One idea I had is to connect this experience to my thoughts around design and globalization, especially how information is communicated across cultures, languages, or contexts. Gamification could be a meethod to make complex global systems, such as supply chains, political structures or gendered spaces more understandable through interaction and embodied experience. Another direction could be to explore how gamification can support or challenge feminist or activist communication. For example: How can playful interaction be used to reveal power structures? Or how can spatial or digital gamification become a tool for subtle protest?

Links:

CoSa Joanneumsviertel Graz
How Gamification Motivates
Social Interactions and the Dynamics of Protest Movements

Last week on November 12th, I watched the documentary movie Schulter an Schulter (“Shoulder to Shoulder”) as part of the Crossroads Festival in Graz. The film brings together five long-term Antifa activists who, for the first time, speak openly about the backgrounds, motivations, and practices of an unusually organized and professional movement that confronted the growing neo-Nazi scene in reunified Germany after 1989. After the movie, activists from Graz also openly spoke about their experiences with antifa and activism.

I found the movie very interesting as the history of antifa is shown in a very clear and understandable way through archival material, personal recollections and reflective interviews by five activists from Germany. Also, the documentary traces how antifascist activism evolved from spontaneous street protests into structured networks of resistance. It portrays not only the confrontations with far-right groups but also the internal debates, emotional strain, and solidarity among activists who dedicated decades of their lives to anti-fascist work.

What fascinated me most is how Schulter an Schulter positions activism as both a historical and emotional practice, something that operates within and beyond visible protest actions. The film exposes how collective resistance requires organization, communication, and strategy, all forms of design in themselves. This connection between activism and design deeply resonates with my current research interests, especially around how protest is communicated, visualized, and mediated.

As a communication designer, I found the film relevant in two key ways.
First, it shows the power of narrative framing: how a movement is represented over time strongly shapes its public perception. The Antifa movement in Germany has long been reduced to stereotypes – often portrayed as radical, chaotic, or violent – yet this documentary humanizes it, showing the strategic, ethical, and emotional labor behind it. This reminds me that design, too, carries responsibility for framing social and political struggles.
Second, the film’s aesthetic approach relying on authenticity, honesty, and long-term perspective rather than shock or spectacle aligns with my growing interest in subtle, reflective forms of protest communication.

In relation to my potential master’s research, Schulter an Schulter raises important questions:
How can design contribute to the documentation and visibility of activist movements without simplifying them? What role does visual communication play in shaping public understanding of resistance?
And how can we as designers, engage with political memory,  especially movements that are often marginalized or misrepresented?

The film also left me reflecting on the infrastructures of protest: flyers, posters, coded communication systems, and collective symbols that circulated among activists. Many of these tools are examples of grassroots communication design created under pressure, with urgency and purpose. I’m inspired to explore how these visual and material artifacts of resistance could inform contemporary design practice, especially in feminist and activist contexts.

Finaly, Schulter an Schulter was not only a historical documentary but also an impulse to think about design as a form of resistance  through slogans or aesthetics as well as how we construct narratives and meaning.

Links:

Crossroads Festival Graz

Schulter an Schulter – Antifa Film

Weil der Staat versagte

Thoughts on Gamification, Space, and Engagement

At the beginning of November, our study program visited the CoSa Museum in the Joanneumsviertel Graz to explore different approaches to gamification. I ended up finding the visit surprisingly relevant—not only for our current gamification project, but also for my own interests and future research directions.

While I wrote the Blogpost to the Spiderwick Books I got the idea to wrote about an other fantasy world. This Year in May I visited togehter with my sister the Warner Brothers Studio Tour in London. It’s an immersive, behind-the-scenes experience that lets you step inside the real sets, props, and artwork used to bring the Harry Potter films to life. Of course I’d love to see all the bog sets, costumes and requesites but there where also a lot of concept art and illustrations which is really intresting. That’s really interesting, and I want to record my memories in this blog article and gather further inspiration on this and, of course, share it.

A Deeper Dive at the Concept Art – My Take Away from the Tour

One of the most impressive parts of the Harry Potter Studio Tour is the huge amount of concept art and illustration work that was created for the films. Many visitors come for the big sets, but the real magic starts much earlier with the artists who imagined the world long before a single scene was filmed.

TAt the Harry Potter Studio Tour, you quickly realize that the art is not just decoration, it’s part of the story itself. The concept art, illustrations, and sketches helped the filmmakers decide how the story would look, feel, and even work emotionally.

Before a single scene was filmed, artists drew Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, the Burrow, and the Forbidden Forest. These drawings weren’t just ideas on paper they defined the tone of the story.

• A dark, twisted sketch of the Forbidden Forest tells you it’s dangerous.
• A cozy, warm illustration of the Burrow tells you it’s a safe, loving home.

By looking at the illustrations first, the filmmakers could see the story visually. It helped them decide where characters should go, how scenes should be lit, and what emotions each space should create. Concept Art is very often used to created and finally build architekture, rooms or sets. One really cool set is the tiny hogwarts castle at the end of the exhibition. Depend on when you are visiting the exhibition, there could be snow around it. What stuck in my mind is that this iconic Hogwarts castle model (1:24) was built by a team of 86 artists and crew and was used for wide exterior shots in many of the films. There were many bright windows, and I checked how many of them were installed. 2500. And thats a lot of tiny glass.

One design duo also stuck in my mind because I found their art very impressive. MinaLima designed an incredible number of props: from potion books to newspapers such as the Daily Prophet to candy wrappers. Over 40 different editions of the Daily Prophet were created, and to make it look old, it was dipped in coffee after printing. It’s nice to see that graphic designers also have a place in such a great film project (so maybe there’s still hope). If you intrested in such Art, looked at their work it’s so inspiring and fascinating.

Creature design tells personality and story

Concept art was especially important for magical creatures. Every sketch helped the filmmakers understand how a character behaves, thinks, and feels.

For example:

• Dobby’s sketches show him scared, happy, or mischievous. Seeing these expressions on paper first helped the filmmakers bring him to life in a way that felt real.
• Buckbeak’s designs explored strength, grace, and fear. Choosing the right look made the story believable the audience immediately understands who the creature is without explanation.

Illustrations like these are a storytelling tool. They guide how the audience experiences characters and the world.

Art helps tell emotion and atmosphere

Every painting, drawing, and sketch in the tour contributes to the story’s mood and atmosphere.

• Shadows, colors, shapes, and textures show fear, joy, mystery, or wonder.
• The smallest details, like a crooked sign in Diagon Alley or a book cover in the library, make the world feel real and lived-in.

This is why illustration isn’t just “pretty art” it’s essential storytelling. The world on paper tells the audience where the story lives and how it should feel, before a single line of dialogue or special effect exists.

Illustration bridges imagination and reality

The Harry Potter films started as books, which rely on imagination. Concept art translates those imaginative ideas into something tangible. It’s the bridge between the author’s words and the visual world on screen.

Without this art, Hogwarts might look different every time, creatures could feel inconsistent, and the story might lose its emotional clarity. The illustrations give the filmmakers a shared visual language that everyone on set can understand.

Conclusion

Illustration and concept art are the backbone of visual storytelling at the Harry Potter Studio Tour. They don’t just show what things look like they shape the story, define the characters, and set the emotional tone. For anyone interested in storytelling, art, or design, seeing these sketches and paintings is inspiring because it shows how much power art has in bringing a story to life. And, of course, it’s worth it for all the wizards among you to take a day trip there and experience the feeling of living history for a day.

One of my favorite book series in my childhood was the Spiderwick Chronicals. Its written by Holly Black and illustrated by one of my role model illustrators Tony DiTerlizzi. Ever since I read the books as a child, I have been fascinated by his art style and the way he draws, which seems so easy and joyful at the same time. I think his art in this book was one of the reasons why I started drawing as a child and why I still love to lose myself in imaginary worlds today. I recently reread the books and remembered how much I enjoyed them, especially the illustrative narrative style.

How the Illustrations Made the Spiderwick Books so Special

The Spiderwick series is one of those children’s book series you don’t forget easily. This is not only because of the exciting story about Jared, Simon, and Mallory Grace, but also because of the illustrations that make every book feel like a little adventure. The drawings by Tony DiTerlizzi are a big reason why the series became so successful.

Why the illustrations are so important

Many children’s books have a few small pictures here and there. Spiderwick is different: the illustrations are an important part of the story. They show the magical creatures the children discover and make the world feel more real.

DiTerlizzi’s style looks a bit like old scientific sketches: detailed, careful, sometimes beautiful, sometimes a bit spooky. Because of this, it feels almost as if these creatures were actually studied and recorded somewhere

Was this a new Way of Narrative Book at this Time

Of course, illustrated books have always existed. But for older children and young teens, it was unusual to have so many pictures in a novel especially pictures of such high quality.

Spiderwick sat right in the middle:

• more illustrations than normal novels,
• but more serious and atmospheric than a typical picture book.

This mix felt fresh and new at the time. Another illustrated book from my childhood I can remember pretty well was Alice in Wonderland. (Maybe I should study this book at some point as well, cause there are a lot of differnt versions of it. ) But this novel was not especially for children. It was more a new way to present the classic books.

Why Spiderwick became so successful

There are several reasons I found why the series was so popular that they even made a film out of it:

1. The pictures made the story feel real

The drawings looked like they came from a real field guide about fairies and goblins. Many children loved this “found notebook” feeling.

2. The books were quick and fun to read

Each book was short, fast-paced, and exciting. The illustrations helped set the mood right away.

3. The style was perfect for the age group

Many children don’t want “kids’ books” anymore, but big text-only books can feel too difficult. Spiderwick was exactly in between.

4. The magical world felt unique

Holly Black’s ideas and Tony DiTerlizzi’s artwork fit perfectly together. The fairy world felt new, interesting, and beautifully designed.

Tony DiTerlizzi – the artist behind the magic

Tony DiTerlizzi was already known as a fantasy illustrator before Spiderwick. He loves old fairy drawings and classic natural studies, and you can see that in his art. For Spiderwick, he didn’t draw “cute” creatures. Instead, he created beings that look like they could really be hiding in the woods or the garden. This mix of fantasy and realism attracted many readers.

My Take Away

Following on from my thoughts in my previous blog post on “Sketchbook,” I looked into the topic of AI and illustration in more detail and came across Eileen Isagon Skyers’ TED Talk. I found her ideas very interesting and similar to my own, which is why I would like to share them here.

What does originality mean when machines can generate images?

That’s the question she is asking the audience. Eileen Isagon Skyers explores how AI is changing art and creativity. Her key points are:

• Originality may now be collaborative, layered, and concept-driven rather than purely hand-drawn.
• AI produces images that are both familiar and uncanny, blurring lines between human and machine creativity.
• Artists working with AI often act as curators, shaping output by selecting, refining, and guiding the machine.
• Questions arise around authorship, emotion, representation, and bias: who defines originality, and whose stories are told?

Why this matters for Illustrators

Originality in art is changing. It is not just about drawing perfectly but about showing your own voice, making choices, and putting intention into your work. Illustrators today often guide ideas and improve the results instead of creating every detail by hand. What really matters is emotion and story. AI can make pictures, but it cannot capture real experiences or true feelings. It is also very important to think about representation, to consider whose stories are shown, which visual traditions are included, and which are left out.

AI aka creative thief

When talking about the originality of AI artworks, one must of course also ask where AI gets its references from. That’s right – from all of us. Caught up in the AI and art bubble, I came across two more TED Talks that deal with precisely this topic. One by Ed Newton‑Rex on how AI “steals” creative work and another by Melody Liu on the ethics of AI art. Both show that AI can create impressive images, but it raises serious questions about originality, authorship, and fairness.

AI learns from existing artworks, often without permission. This means that styles, images, and ideas created by real human artists are used to train machines that can then produce new work. On one hand, this can inspire new creativity and speed up the illustration process. On the other, it risks taking away recognition, income, and the personal voice of artists.

Another issue is emotion and story. AI can combine shapes and colors perfectly, but it cannot capture lived experience, personal feelings, or the soul an artist puts into their work. Without that human element, art can feel empty. Finally, representation is also a concern: AI reflects the biases of its training data, so some voices and cultural traditions are left out, while others dominate.

How to protect your art

Ed Newton‑Rex also talks about how artists can protect their work from being used by AI without permission. One important step is to be aware of where and how you share your art online. Artists can use copyrights and licenses to make clear how their work can be used. Another idea is to add signatures or branding so people can see which work is original. Newton‑Rex says it’s important for artists to have a say in how their art is shared online, so they can protect both their voice and their income.

My take away

Of course, everyone knows by now that AI steals from real artists, but it’s easy to ignore and these talks really made me realize that I need to keep it in mind before posting anything online, especially on Instagram or Pinterest. My opinion on AI hasn’t really changed since my last blog post, it feels like most people talking about AI in a good way as “art” aren’t really illustrators or working artists. Still, I’m sure there are positive ways to use AI creatively without losing the soul of art, and I probably need to explore that side more. All three TED Talks I watched were really interesting and raised a lot of important questions. There are definitely many more talks out there on this topic for anyone who’s interested. I’m not sure if I want to explore this topic more deeply at this point, but maybe it could be part of a research.

I didn’t expect much when I turned on the Disney show “Sketchbook” but then I got completly hooked. Each episode follows a Disney artist who talks about their own story while showing how they draw a famous character. From Simba and Olaf to Mirabel from Encanto. But the best part isn’t really the drawing itself. It’s everything that happens in between the work. The stories, the emotions, the reflections on art, creativity and life of the artists.

What “Sketchbook” Is Really About

The Show isn’t like a “how to learn drawing” show or anything, its about the stories behind the drawings. You can watch how a few simple lines slowly turn into a living figure, and it becomes clear that every drawing carries a piece of the artist’s personal story.

For example, Gabrielle Salonga explains how she drew Mirabel and what it means to her to represent her Latina background at Disney. Eric Goldberg, the animator behind Genie from Aladdin, talks about how he brings humor to life through movement. It’s amazing to see how much personality and emotion are hidden in these drawings.

What Inspired Me the Most

What really touched me was how openly the artists talked about their insecurities. These are people who’ve worked on legendary films (which the most artsit can just dream of) and yet, they still admit to doubting themselves sometimes.

That hit home for me, because it reminded me on myself and the reason why I draw. Not to be perfect, but to express something real and a part of myself. To make visible what can’t be said in words or whats in my imagination. In a world of pressure and selfimprovment, you always have to remind yourself that you don’t have to be perfect. Art is not about being perfect but about the stories and personalities behind it. Most people quit because they think that they are not good enough, seeing millions and millions of perfectly beatiful drawings and artworks everyday. Especially pintrest or instagram hit me hard everytime I open the app, actually searching for inspiration but ending up in selfdoubt and an artistic crisis. In this digital and over-sharing world its hard to go back to old ways for just sit down and draw what you see or feel.

The Moment I Started Thinking About AI and Art

While watching “Sketchbook,” I suddenly became so aware of how deeply human art really is. Every line, every stroke carries emotion, intention, and soul. And to be honest, I got really sad about it. In a time where AI-generated art is everywhere – flawless, polished and absolutly perfect – this series reminded me of what AI can’t do: feel.

An algorithm can analyze, imitate and combine styles. Draw flawless, polished and absolutly perfect pictures about everything you can imagine. Of course at this point it is still making mistakes, but it will be improving in the next years and there wont be such mistakes anywhere anymore.
But this drawings can’t pour childhood memories into a line. It doesn’t know what it’s like to feel nervous before starting a new piece, or the rush of joy when a character or a imaginary place suddenly “comes to life.”

That’s what I find so sad, that with too much automation, art risks losing its emotions, its imperfections, its soul. Even when we use AI and its making a mistake, why we call it a mistake? How we can define mistake in art? Real artworks are living from this kind of mistakes. And with AI, art isn’t just losing there soul – it’s losing there imperfection. Thats what it makes them to artworks.

“Sketchbook” reminded me how much life can exist in a single pencil stroke – something no machine will ever truly replicate. And from this thought I am so inspired, that I am thinking about to use it for my masterthesis. Because the real question is: why you should draw a damn complex picture of a dragon or something else, when you just can create it within a minute and one click on the keyboard.

A New Approach Idea

I am really struggeling to find a proper Masterthesis Idea, because everything I want to do, is really hard in the implementation and in most cases don’t have a really new approach, espescially when it comes to the research. But thinking and writing about this AI topic makes me really emotinally and it’s easy to write about it. So perhaps I could use this as a new approach for my thesis. Usually I avoid every topic with AI most of all when it’s about creating illustrations with it. It makes me feel really sad and anxious. I am scared that we can’t get jobs or that art won’t be appriciated that much anymore. But (as with every problem in life) avoiding it won’t make it disappear. Maybe we as artist are in charge to find ways to live with it, perhaps even to work with it. I think I am not the only Illustrator who feels that way. And maybe right in these toughts are beginnings for new methods. How we can see AI not as threat but as allie, to make concepts more easy or use it as inspiration, basis or part of an artwork. I will think about this idea and how it maybe could be combined with my original topic.

Final Thoughts

However, back to where these thoughts are started – “Sketchbook” isn’t just a typical documentary and I can recommend it to everyone who is intresented in animation films, illustrating or the art business in general. It feels like a honest conversation between artists, full of inspiration, vulnerability and emotions.

My takeaway in one sentence:
“Sketchbook” reminded me that art is most beautiful when it has a soul and no algorithm will ever replace that.