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Fellowships

In Conversation with the NFF Fellows: Victorine van Alphen

Every year, three artists work on their own innovative research at the intersection of technology and society in the NFF Fellowships Programme. In this special programme, everything is up for discussion: the questions being asked, the methods used, even the outcomes are not fixed. To give insight into their work forms, dilemmas, and motivations, Paulien Dresscher, curator of the programme and researcher in the field of digital culture, engages in conversation with the Fellows.

The first Fellow this year is Victorine van Alphen.

Fellows 2024–2025
Part 1: Victorine van Alphen

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The Riddle of a New World

Have you already seen Mountainhead, the directorial debut of Jesse Armstrong, written and shot in just six months? In this film, four tech titans gather in a luxury ski resort high in the mountains to discuss how they can use the global crisis – caused by one of their own deepfake tools – to increase their own power.

The film is one of many examples where the apparent power of AI propels imagination to great heights: AI, and especially generative AI, seems to be rapidly becoming one of the most discussed/praised/overrated/underrated technologies. From utopia to dystopia and everything in between, opinions tumble over each other. Apart from the measurable disastrous effects on the climate, some are convinced that those who do not jump in now will forever be left behind. Others predict the end of humanity as we know it, or instead believe that AI will save it. Whether it will make the rich richer is actually no longer a question, as we see in Mountainhead.

One person who does not settle for ready-made opinions or juicy scenarios circulated by (social) media is artist Victorine van Alphen. In her Fellowship trajectory, through her installation The Oracle: Ritual for the Future, Van Alphen investigates what generative AI means for us.

Van Alphen is no stranger to the NFF. In 2021 she won the Golden Calf for Best Digital Cultural Production with IVF-X: Posthuman Parenting in Hybrid Reality. IVF-X was an interactive performance-installation where audiences merged their (posthuman) desire for procreating with philosophical questions about digital humanity. With The Oracle, Van Alphen continues this exploration of our relationship with technology, with a focus on AI.

With an insatiable curiosity, Van Alphen dives into the world of AI tools. Among hybrid robots and artificial landscapes, sensual half-humans and dancers with “post-physical fluidity,” she searches for nuance: in image and experience, but also in our minds and thoughts. She wants to transcend the binary “AI is good or bad” and make a possible future in which AI-generated images may shift something deep in our cultural and biological fabric tangible.

Scherm afbeelding 2025 08 14 om 11 20 50

Desire for Connection

To reach her goal, Van Alphen applies a stylistic form she calls roborotics. Roborotics is infused with synthetic sensuality and revolves around the desire for connection between human and machine, a recurring theme in her work. With dancing robots and AI-generated bodies, Van Alphen wants to seduce us into questioning the fusion of technology and humanity, by embracing it. For this she seeks a voluptuous and playful aesthetic, something we do not usually associate with technology. And perhaps rightly so.

Sensuality as an ultimate human experience seems at odds with technology. In her search for an imagery of roborotics, Van Alphen is actually thwarted by the techniques she works with: the built-in censorship in tools like Runway ML, Stable Diffusion, or Midjourney makes it difficult to create original and sensual images. Because of the specific, often limited aesthetic preferences of AI image generators, every output quickly risks becoming cliché, slick, and standardized, or, in the case of Stable Diffusion, oversexualized. This makes it impossible to convey something original or authentically sensual.

Van Alphen: “What is truly human quickly disappears with AI, falling between the cracks of idealization and censorship. I’m searching for something intimate, something sensual. The rawness and softness that are so inherently human, that’s what I’m after. I try to achieve that by working with and against the technology.”

Prompting

To nonetheless gain control over AI’s output, various strategies are possible. The most important act to generate anything at all in AI – but especially to move past built-in bias – is prompting. Prompting means giving an instruction to achieve a specific result. A prompt can be an image, a question, an assignment, a description of a feeling or a movement, or even a stylistic request. Based on this, the AI delivers its output; the image (or, if desired, a text). After the machine’s first response, the result can be endlessly refined with new prompts, until the desired outcome is reached.

The series This is as naked as I could get is a kind of spin-off from The Oracle, focusing on the search for “the most naked image” the machine can generate: somewhere between the oversexualized and the super-prudish, a world that no longer seems to exist in the digital domain. The visual prompt strategy she used here to circumvent the algorithms of AI image programmes was the use of ‘fictional’ or quasi-mechanical replications of motion blur – an analogue technique in photography – combined with digital textures. Generative AI (still?) struggles with ambiguity, physical distortion, and analog errors. By giving prompts that are difficult to interpret, a kind of confusion arises in the machine, allowing the AI to move past the average aesthetic norm. By reinforcing this through new prompts, and—as Van Alphen does—offering input in increasingly complex and formal visual language, you can bypass bias further and further.

The most common form of prompting, however, is in language. A good prompt can be used as an artistic tool, and must provide direction without being too deterministic. It can encourage the AI to produce something surprising, leading to an interesting exchange between artist and machine. A prompt points: that way, something like this, but better.

This is as naked This is as naked as I could get, sketch for the Centraal Museum

This, for example, is the full prompt Van Alphen used to generate the image below: “Abstract sculpture rises from a grey sea of pixelated shapes. Complex composition of forms. High contrast black and white photography with a grainy ethereal quality that creates a dreamlike atmosphere. Delicate translucent forms are captured with stark lighting that emphasizes their curved geometric shapes against deep black shadows. The monochromatic palette is enhanced by a fine film grain texture that adds a vintage photographic feel, while subtle light reflections create an otherworldly glow. Monochrome aesthetic ethereal lighting, film grain, geometric abstraction, noir photography.”

With this prompt we see that Van Alphen not only describes what she wants to see, but also how it should feel, how it is constructed, and what atmosphere it should evoke. The prompt is a combination of abstraction, poetry, and words that give concrete colour. She then trains the AI on an aesthetic, by repeatedly indicating which outcomes are leading, until after many iterations a final form “grows” that she is satisfied with, the end result:

Gen4 abstract sculpture rises from a grey sea of pixelated shapes Complex compos s 357172 39824723 kopie Space as movement, #8

A prompt for moving images, a video, differs fundamentally from a prompt for still images, because it must set a change in motion over time: there is movement and rhythm, an atmosphere develops, there is camera movement, editing, and speed. In the following prompt we see these elements appear, and it almost reads like the fever dreams of a cameraperson, in which the banal and the poetic flow together with violence, calm, and aesthetics:

A cinematic hyper slow-motion video of a mixed-race woman on the toilet with her phone. Camera pans slowly around her head. Her face is red from the light shining from her phone’s screen showing war images and bombardments. The burning landscapes are reflected in her eyes, yet somehow this scene feels peaceful, relaxing and perfectly composed. Shot with 85 mm lens at f1/2 aperture, shallow depth of field. The woman has ordinary, non-commercial beauty making the scene feel intimate. Yellow monochromatic colour palette with grainy texture like the reference image.

Picture3 Screen image video The Oracle

Can we regard prompting as a new form of artistic practice, in which the maker, in dialogue with an algorithm, composes scenes, selects styles, and tries to recognize or even use the system’s built-in biases as material? Perhaps the success of an AI image lies above all in the power of a tool that appears creative but is in reality a complex statistical system, trained on the work of others.

To whom does an AI-generated image actually belong? Does ownership lie with the user who formulates the prompt, with the company that manages the model and generates the output, or with the invisible dataset on which the system was trained? And can we even still speak of authorship in a system based on massive and largely opaque data collection, where the creative work of many is compressed into an anonymous training set without recognition or consent?

These are not merely legal or technical questions, but questions that belong in the conversation about the relationship between human and machine. Who is really creating, when the origin of choices, images, or texts can no longer be verified? Van Alphen sees working with AI as a collaboration: “And not only between me and the AI, but also between the AI and everything humans have ever produced. A kind of mega-collaboration, which is at the same time also a counteraction. With results that are often frustrating, yet may function as inspiring funhouse mirrors of our reality and imagination. What it does for me is sharpen my antennae for what ‘human’ could or should mean.”

The Research

The Oracle is an installation that serves as both stage and platform for Van Alphen’s AI experiments. But it is also an installation that functions as a temporary mini-society, in which for every new version a fresh group of visitors is invited to immerse themselves together for an hour.

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Van Alphen considers it a place to look toward the future, where the natural and the unnatural may merge. As she writes in her research proposal: “The Oracle is a place where technology and humans co-evolve and life always finds a way. But which way? Can we humans, inspired by AI and robotic perspective, recalibrate our physicality and our future?”

Each experimental performance of The Oracle concludes with a group conversation, everyone seated on the ground in a circle. Van Alphen asks what each person experienced: what did they see, what did they think, what did they feel? Everyone listens quietly and adds their own thoughts, or contradicts, speaking from their own perspective. These aftertalks feel like an essential part of the work, grounding an experience that is difficult to put into words. At the same time, they serve as input for further development.

Van Alphen also looks forward to leaving audiences in silence with the finished work:
“Aftertalks can open worlds and discussions and are very useful in the process, but I believe that to dive deeper I’d rather let my audience go home or to the pub after the performance, with their unnameable questions and feelings.”

The Final Version

The two iterations of The Oracle I attended took me through various stages and forms of AI. At first, I felt a certain aversion – even some irritation – determined not to give in but to remain critical. But gradually I lost my grip and surrendered: I let myself be carried away by the 360-degree seductive sea of images, with the inevitable mer à boire of associations, thoughts, and feelings.

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But the big question is: when a work keeps receiving new iterations… is it ever finished? According to Van Alphen: “As an artist I am never finished or ‘out of wonder,’ but sometimes a work is finished. For example, when something exists that evokes new perspectives or questions, that sparks the imagination, that seduces further searching, feeling, or thinking. As if dust from the future is being thrown into our faces, pushed into our stomachs. Even if we don’t know what to make of it, as between thinking and experiencing, there is a whole world to discover. I make experimental work because I want it the experiments to mirror to the world – with the technology, image culture and humanness from which it grew – in its own often surprising way. A way we humans look at ourselves that can only arise from the collaboration of (techno-) elements and people, both traceable and untraceable, but always unique.”

Conclusion

The final images of the version of The Oracle I saw consisted of a gently rippling watery landscape in an evening sun beneath a rainy sky. As if I were the last man standing on a planet where no ski resort remained, the centre of a world slowly sinking into the sea.

Will the world truly perish because of AI? A Loch Ness–like robot serpent turned its mechanical head toward me one last time, humbly, as a farewell to humanity. Yet I felt at peace. And that is perhaps the mysterious power of The Oracle: Ritual for the Future: it takes you into a world without humans, to which you surrender, despite everything.

Written by Paulien Dresscher

The Oracle: Ritual for the Future | Experiment #4 will be shown during the Netherlands Film Festival 2025. Ticket sale starts 28 August.

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