Carlos Fentanes

Ethics, the elusive butterfly of the modern age. What is it, and how does it impact us? More importantly, how does it mess with my work as an artist? This concept is as abstract as a DeKooning painting and just as slippery. You can’t grab it and hold onto it for long; it’s free-spirited and ever-changing. What’s right today can be wrong tomorrow and vice versa.

I kicked off this blog because of my curiosity about ethics. Hence, the grandiose title: Ethics and Art. Initially, it was a deep dive into the tangled relationships between artists, galleries, institutions, and curators. You know, the unsung heroes masquerading as curators or art galleries, exploiting the desperate dreams of newbie artists yearning for a spotlight. Enter, the Art Show fee scam.

That was just the prologue. It was crucial for me to decode the art industry’s Machiavellian schemes. But ethics isn’t always about the Benjamins. Lately, I’ve noticed a swelling tide of censorship on social media. Many artists, including yours truly, are stumbling over the vague community guidelines. Nudes, warfare, racial issues—it’s a minefield out there.

Instagram, the uncontested king of visual arts social media, It’s certain that if you don’t have an account with them, you don’t exist. This is where gallerists, curators, museums, and artists find each other and where the conversations begin. So, what happens when the AI gatekeeper slams the door in your face because your content is deemed inappropriate by its algorithm? In short, you’re toast. No golden ticket for you.

Why can’t I post a picture of my artwork if it features female nipples? Why are male nipples a-okay but female ones are not? Ever pondered that? Recently, I’ve been ranting about Instagram’s censorship, partly because I’ve been shadow-banned all year. My posts barely see the light of day, and my audience? Crickets. No golden ticket here, either.

I don’t create art to show off or make pretty objects. Nope, it’s for very selfish, personal reasons that involve no one but me. Once I finish a piece, it can go straight into the trash. It’s lost its purpose. Yet, I still want to share it with my followers, tell my story, and, yes, reach out to commercial galleries to sell my work. There’s nothing wrong with earning some extra cash from honest labor. But the algorithm blocks my path. Should I change my subject matter? Not a chance. I’m making art for myself, and I’m not about to change just because a lousy program can’t tell the difference between pornography and my art (though, to be fair, sometimes I can’t either).

The real question is, should we let an algorithm dictate our culture? Can you imagine a society censored by machines? A machine programmed by the moral compass of American Christian conservatism? What’s next? It’s a chilling thought.