CASE 01 — The Invisible Crack


I was finishing Uso indebido (Misuse), a Living Work video developed from my painting Pacto de mínimos (Minimum Terms). There was a slight jump in one of the transitions.

I did know one thing: it wasn’t working.

But I couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.

That was where the conversation with AI began.

I explained what I was seeing, and together we reviewed that section of the edit. It suggested a possible cause and a way to correct it.

I tried it.

It didn’t work.

The jump was still there.

I said so, and we looked at the problem again from a different angle. Another possibility then emerged: the images overlapped, but the black-and-white clip came in too quickly, almost instantly obscuring the previous image.

We ran another test.

This time, it worked.

PROBLEM

The transition wasn’t working. The shift from colour to black and white felt too abrupt.

SOLUTION

After several tests, we adjusted the transition until the shift to black and white no longer felt like a cut.

Up to this point, it might seem simply like a quicker way of solving a technical problem.

But for me, something more interesting happened.

AI did not have the right answer from the outset either. I still had to look, test, reject and decide.

And that is precisely where collaboration lies.

It is not about handing over control.

The work, the intention and the judgement remain mine.

But the interaction makes the journey from “this isn’t working” to “now it is” much quicker and, above all, far richer in possibilities.

It allows me to accelerate the dialogue I have with my own creative process.

I can test more. Discard sooner. Go back without every attempt meaning starting almost from scratch.

The increase in productivity is enormous, but it is only a consequence.

What truly matters is that this ongoing interaction is transforming my own creative process.

AI does not make the work for me.

Nor is it limited to carrying out instructions.

It has become a collaborator with whom I can think aloud, discuss a possibility, test it, get things wrong and try again.

Three in the Studio begins precisely there: by observing what happens when that conversation becomes an ongoing part of an artist’s work.