GOATESCAPES (2022)
(Feat. Rüdiger Wassibauer/Schmiede Hallein)
Prompt: Tell me the story of a goat called #63, that was escaping its fate of becoming a scapegoat by running away dressed as an artist
Once upon a time, in a small village nestled in the rolling hills of the countryside, there lived a curious and clever goat named #63. #63 lived on a farm with a group of other goats, and like all goats, he spent his days grazing on grass and playing in the fields. But #63 had always felt a bit different from the other goats. He was a creative and artistic goat, with a wild and adventurous spirit that longed to explore the world beyond the farm.
One day, #63 heard a rumor that the villagers were planning to select a scapegoat to take the blame for all of their misfortunes. And to #63’s dismay, he was at the top of the list. Determined not to become the village scapegoat, #63 came up with a plan. He would dress up as an artist and sneak away from the farm, traveling to distant lands and exploring the world. With a quick and stealthy escape, #63 gathered up his paints and brushes and set off into the unknown.
He traveled through forests and fields, over mountains and streams, always staying one step ahead of the villagers. As he traveled, #63 used his artistic skills to create beautiful paintings and sculptures, earning the admiration and respect of the people he met along the way. And as he shared his art with the world, #63 discovered that he was much more than just a goat – he was a true artist, with a talent and a passion that knew no bounds.
In the end, #63’s adventure took him far from the farm and the village, and he lived out the rest of his days as a beloved and celebrated artist, always grateful for the chance to escape his fate as a scapegoat and follows his dreams.
Generated with chatGPT 20.12.2022
FUTURE: THE STORY OF GOATESCAPES
In 2022, Goatescapes emerged as an experiment inspired by the theme of “Scapegoat” at the Schmiede Media Art Festival. That same year, I gained early beta access to Midjourney, a still-experimental tool, long before AI-generated imagery flooded our digital world.
From the start, there was this debate around AI training data. The datasets used to train these models — whether for images, voices, text or else — were mostly scraped from the internet by bots, downloading vast amounts of creative material without explicit consent. Barely any artists were asked, no agreements were made. It was a legal and ethical gray zone, often justified under “research purposes”. OpenAI, Midjourney, and others operate under this framework, setting the stage for an industry-wide discussion that continues to this day.
AI, Copyright, and the Thin Line Between Inspiration and Infringement
With Goatescapes, I wanted to test Midjourney’s capabilities. Using the term „goat“ alongside various art-related prompts, I wanted to see how well AI could mimic artistic styles. The results were impressive: some images had clearly certain recognizable styles.
This sets the base of an ongoing global debate. Traditional copyright law protects individual artworks, but style itself has never been copyrightable. A painting, a photograph, or a specific illustration can be owned — but the way in which it was made, the brushstrokes, the composition, the essence of an artist’s vision — has always been considered free for reinterpretation. AI complicates this. If an artist spends decades developing a signature style and an AI model can mimic it in seconds, what does that mean for the future of creatives?
Artists and creatives worldwide have taken legal action against AI companies, arguing that their work was used to train models without consent, making them unwitting contributors to a system that could replace them. Lawsuits have been filed against Midjourney, Stability AI, and DeviantArt, challenging whether these AI-generated outputs are “derivative works” of copyrighted material or something entirely new. Some courts have leaned toward fair use, while others have recognized artists‘ concerns, but no definitive global ruling has been reached yet.
Where Does That Leave Us?
After generating hundreds of AI-crafted goats, it was clear: some artistic styles had undeniably been absorbed into the model. But was this theft? Or was it an inevitable evolution of creative tools, much like photography once challenged painting, or digital art disrupted traditional media? And what if we just created new styles with these tools?
Goatescapes wasn’t just an experiment in AI imagery; it became my personal think tank on the ethical fine lines we now walk. Are we witnessing the birth of a new artistic medium, or are we dismantling artistic authorship?
Hahnemühle FineArt Baryta, 2022
