We are living in an exciting technological age, where we can print 3D objects and models overnight, and generate images in seconds. But in this “Fast-Art” world of AI and 3D printing, I fear that craftsmanship is becoming an endangered art, and that we are at serious risk of losing important, traditional skills and techniques, and valuable creative processes. We are losing what makes art so important and valuable to humanity - storytelling, connection, reflection, and introspection.
Over the last few years, I have had the pleasure and privilege to learn from some of the most talented, dedicated, and skilled artists within the film and puppetry industries, including creatives who have worked with the legendary Jim Henson Company, and Weta Workshop. These are people whose work shaped many childhoods, inspired imaginations, and brought unforgettable worlds to life long before digital shortcuts existed. They are masters of sculpting, fabricating, painting, and puppeteering, and they have honed their skills over decades, learning through mentorship, long hours, and a genuine passion for their craft.
I learned so much from each of them, but two things really stood out for me. Their burning passion for their craft, and their urgency to pass on their skills and knowledge to those who are willing to learn. To ignite and fan the creative spark within us all, so that we could create with true freedom and reckless abandon, and get lost in the process of creating, and not just focus on the end result.
I realize how lucky and fortunate I am to have had the time to learn so much from each artist, and I’m now left with a deep sense of urgency and responsibility to keep these skills alive, and to pass them on. Which I feel many of these artists felt themselves. All these skills will be lost if we don’t keep them alive!
We have a responsibility to keep these skills alive.
There is an undeniable beauty in handmade art, which cannot be replicated in machine generated objects and images. The intuitive and random brush marks on a painting, and the fingerprints and toolmarks on a sculpture. What we see as imperfections. This is what makes handmade art real, and alive. There is a story that lives in all the small details, that a machine would never think to include unless it was programmed to do so.
The artists I’ve had the privilege to learn from don’t simply “make things.” They think with their hands. They solve problems using intuition born from years of tactile experience, and many mistakes. They make it all look so easy and watching them work is like seeing them perform magic.
I’ve seen a sculptor and puppeteer bring a puppet to life by making the eyes look slightly squint and then breathing life into it with subtle movement. I’ve seen a painter mix a colour by sight (no recipe card) until it matched a reference perfectly. I’ve heard stories about how accidental design choices became iconic parts of beloved characters.
These aren’t magic tricks. It’s wisdom and experience born from a lifetime of curiosity, trial, error, and love for their craft. These are things which are impossible to replicate with a few keystrokes and a push of a button.
I’m not saying that we need to resist or turn our back on technology. I believe it’s important and has its place, but we shouldn’t let technology take the entire creative process away from the artist. We are now able to quickly create prototype armature parts that used to take days, and digital sculpting can refine ideas before they’re physically built.
As the pressure to create faster, and the demand to “feed the algorithm” forever increases, I feel more artists are moving away from the slower creative processes to meet this demand. Fewer young artists are learning to sculpt with traditional clay and sculpting mediums, mix paint, sew puppets or clothes, build armatures, carve wood, or paint miniatures.
We need to remember that creativity isn’t just about output. It’s about being present in the process, and taking time to learn, and develop our skills and practice. We can’t discover or perfect a process and skill without first making mistakes, solving problems, and spending the time to create. Art is not just a product.
The artists I’ve learned from have shown me what it means to truly create: to invest time, patience, curiosity, and soul into something tangible. Their artwork lives and breathes and has shaped generations of imagination. If we want future generations to feel that same magic; to look at a puppet, a creature, a sculpture, and feel the heartbeat behind it; then we have to ensure these skills don’t disappear.
When we allow ourselves to become deeply emersed in the creative process, and create from a place of intention, we leave a small piece of ourselves within every piece we create. We give our artwork life and soul, and this is what ignites imagination, creates connection, and fuels the ongoing, human desire to create.
In a time when creation can happen faster than ever before, the slow, intentional, traditional ways of making become even more precious. We have a responsibility to keep our craft and skills alive, pass them onto the next generation, and protect the art that makes us human. How will you leave your mark?
