How Generative NFT Artist Tyler Hobbs’ London And New York Shows Explore The Human/Machine Relation

Tyler Hobbs is a leading generative artist. He works methodically, with a straightforward, systematic approach to making artwork through processes, procedures and algorithms. Hobbs may write code to develop programs that generate artwork, knowing the program will lead to a distinct creation. Or he may give in to chance. “Randomness plays a large role. I try to find a balance between order and disorder or between structure and chaos,” explains the Austin-based visual artist. “I want to give the programs the freedom and ability to surprise me and to escape the limitations of my imagination. Randomness is the ingredient that creates that opportunity.”

Celebrated for his “Fidenza” NFT series, Hobbs is in London to present the first of two major solo exhibitions this spring at Unit London (March 7 to April 6) and Pace Gallery in New York (March 30 to April 22).

“Mechanical Hand” at Unit London marks his first UK show. It features recent paintings on canvas and drawings on paper that explore the imaginative possibilities of what can happen with the exchange of ideas between human and machine. “Many of the works are more intimate in nature, such as subtle graphite or watercolor on paper,” he explains the selection on show. “Overall, I was interested in exploring the spectrum of how an artist might integrate the computer or robotics into their practice or take a more mechanical approach by working with the hand. I was also interested in using the hand where a machine might be a more natural fit or vice versa.”

Meanwhile, at Pace, “QQL: Analogs” — the gallery’s first show dedicated to an individual artist’s web3 project to coincide with NFT.NYC 2023 — will feature paintings based on Hobbs’ experimentations with the new QQL NFT algorithm, an expansive, long-form generative algorithm made in collaboration with NFT art collector Dandelion Wist.

The Pace exhibit celebrates the algorithm and the transformation of ideas from digital to physical. “A key feature of QQL is that it allows the collector to become the curator and a type of co-creator, what we like to call the ‘parametric artist,’” he explains. “The raw outputs from the algorithm must be curated and selected to be part of the final set of 999.” Hobbs selected 12 new QQL outputs — each painted on a 4 x 5-foot wood panel, with some created robotically and others using robotic and manual processes.

Hobbs admits his fascination lies in how these processes transform the digital work and play with how a viewer sees and engages with the art. “I am also interested in how traditional painters, who we do not typically think of as generative, have used systematic, nearly algorithmic rules to help them construct a series of paintings or a signature style. In many ways, the show is not a new method for developing a set of paintings, just a more concrete and explicit method.”

Earlier in his career, Hobbs worked within a more traditional art form, with pencil, pen, paint and often with big figure drawing rather than abstraction, which seems a far cry from his current work. It was only in 2014 that he began experimenting with programming. I’m interested to know what attracted Hobbs to the medium.

Having studied computer science in college and worked as a programmer, Hobbs wanted to integrate programming into his artwork. “Writing code had reshaped how I looked at the world and established the mental models I used to organize my thoughts and solve problems. It was such an important part of my life that my artwork felt incomplete without it,” he says.

“Eventually, I had the idea to write a program that created a painting. The results were fascinating, the ideas felt fresh, and there was a huge opportunity for exploration.” Hobbs learned about generative art, the scene, and the tools he needed to work within this space. He says he’s glad he had taken the first steps alone. “This helped me to establish my own particular approach and aesthetic.”

Cy Twombly and Agnes Martin have been major artist influences, and I’m interested to know what it is about these two that’s left such an imprint. There is a solid emotional connection and a fascination with their creative processes. “I particularly appreciate the systematic elements that can be found in their work,” says Hobbs explaining that Martin often explored variations on a familiar theme “as if viewing several outputs from the same algorithm.” And even though Twombly works more gesturally, Hobbs finds moments where he allows the pattern to take over. “Sequences of repeated, looping scrawls to me speak of a program, manually executed. The hand introduces the randomness,” he says. “With both of these artists, even their most stripped-down work says something important about humanity.”

For the London exhibition, Hobbs is effectively directing both the machine and human processes, and I want to know how these two spaces coexist. He replies, “In terms of their ‘default aesthetics,’ these two are quite different. Computers like to do things perfectly, with smooth lines, even spacing and consistent coverage. When we work by hand, it’s the opposite — everything is subtly distorted and imperfect. I tried to use a systematic, procedural approach in both spaces because I felt that best showcased the unique fingerprint of each.” Using the hand to execute the colder, digital, algorithmic designs also helped make the machine-made more approachable and emotionally connected to the human.

Hobbs has worked with messy mediums, airbrush and charcoal, tools that cannot be fully controlled and leave some space for elements of surprise, which seems like the polar opposite of the clinical neatness of algorithms. “In my purely algorithmic work, I have to labor to create that messiness or surprise. One of the wonderful things about these mediums is how much they do for you and give to you. As the artist, you have to give something up. They are risky and do things you may not want or anticipate. But they give back in richness, complexity and variety.”

Then there is the humble pencil, which features so heavily in the London show. Hobbs believes it is a critical tool to help strip away distractions from the key elements in some of his work. “I like how clearly the pencil shows its marks and how readily it brings texture to the surface. It is an incredibly subtle and sensitive medium. It allows a lot of the process to come through in the finished work, and as you pointed out, the process is a key component of the show. In some works, it is nearly the only element.”

I’m curious if working at the slower pace of physical creation has formed a more intimate relationship between him and his latest work. “I think so,” he says. “It generates an intense feeling for me while I’m working on the artwork, and there’s a special connection when I view it. With that said, purely digital work has its own advantages: what you can create there is less strictly bounded by reality.”

Equally, for someone accustomed to showing and selling his work in the digital sphere, does the work alter when exhibited in the physical space, communicating with the building, the human viewer, and perhaps even the more expansive city: London or New York? He replies: “It is hard to overstate how much of an effect the physical space has on the work. Spaces are amazing tools for putting us into a particular mood and mindset. A good gallery space can help the viewer to slow down, open their mind and observe carefully. It allows certain work to be successful that might never be appreciated on, say, an Instagram feed.”

He also likes the idea of the gallery visitor’s ability to interact more intimately and in their way with an artwork: walk around, walk up to and absorb all the details. The technology isn’t quite there to give the same visceral experience for purely digital art. Ultimately Hobbs’ ease of movement between the physical and digital space, the interchangeability of the two, reflects our lives. I’m keen to know his thoughts on the role, if any, of art. “I don’t believe that art should always engage with current topics, but I wanted to create art that felt like it was from ‘this time’ and was made using the tools of the day.

“Our lives are very much split between the digital and the physical. We spend most of our waking hours engaging with digital environments, but at the end of the day, we still exist in physical bodies, and our strongest experiences still come from our physical senses. It feels important for art to span that divide as well if it’s going to express something about the reality we currently live in.”

See the collaborative work of haute couture designer Iris van Herpen and Rolls-Royce, artist Peter Doig’s exquisite London Courtault show, Soheila Sokhanvari’s timely exhibition “Rebel Rebel” at the Barbican, and the works of artists Nikita Gale for Frieze, Almudena Romero and Émeric Lhuisset at Paris Photo.