I’m davidname, a London-based synthographer working exclusively with artificial intelligence. This website is my online portfolio—a virtual gallery showcasing my work with AI across a series of themed projects. From imagined ceramics and sculptural illusions to fabricated flowers and synthetic prints, every image explores what it means to make meaning in a world of simulation. This is not a curriculum vitae or an autobiography; it’s a dialogue with technology—a collaboration between man and machine. People once said photography wasn’t art, but time has a way of altering perception. Now they say the same about generative AI—but in this space between fiction and reality, a new kind of art emerges. As real as Magritte’s pipe, as logical as Duchamp’s urinal, these works are digital hallucinations: crafted from prompts and photographed without a camera. For enquiries: davidname.london@gmail.com
Fictional driftwood cabinets built from wreckage that never existed—constructed through artificial intelligence, not carpentry. Weathered planks, peeling paint, rusted hinges and traces of graffiti suggest realism, yet nothing here is real. These are impossible artefacts: convincing fictions designed to seduce the eye and subvert belief.
Digitally constructed floral compositions inspired by Dutch still-life painting—baroque, hyperreal, and precise. These bouquets never wilt or fade, their petals suspended in light and shadow. Conjured entirely through language, Anthos transforms abundance into illusion: flowers that exist only as image—radiant, impossible, and unreal.
Sculpted wooden flowers that exist only as illusion. Neither wood nor flower, these hyperreal forms are crafted entirely with AI—never carved, never painted, never touched. The images invite the viewer to believe in what cannot be held: digital objects that feel physical, poised, and precise. Every surface suggests weight, texture, and craftsmanship.
Inspired by Murano exuberance and Lalique restraint, these floral sculptures shimmer with the appearance of glass. They fuse decorative tradition with digital invention. Neither flower nor glass, each form is crafted entirely with artificial intelligence. Gleaming, translucent, smooth, and crystalline. The mind believes what the eye can see.
Idealised male physiques inspired by ancient Greek gymnasium culture. These figures are sculpted not by hand, but by language—dreamed into being, not photographed. Competition, rivalry, and erotic tension converge in images that celebrate the body as the product of discipline and exercise, charged with homoerotic intent.
Here, AI becomes a kind of kiln—a crucible where words are fired into form. Drawing on Shino and Raku traditions, these ceramic objects appear glazed, crackled, and poised between function and abstraction. Illusory yet tactile, Forma explores the boundary between usefulness and beauty, material and simulation, belief and perception.
Nature reimagined through an artist’s eyes. These images shift from observation to expressive abstraction—brushstrokes without brushes, paintings without paint. Colour and texture record sensation rather than reality. Created entirely with AI, Nemoris explores how nature might be translated into image—through words, gesture, and technology.
Suspended sculptural forms made of simulated fabric, metal, and discarded plastic—crafted entirely with AI. These assemblages feel physical: draped, buckled, and twisted into dynamic tension. Structa examines the textures of consumption and material excess, conjuring an architecture of detritus that reveals the strange beauty of discarded things.
Minimalist tulip studies inspired by Robert Mapplethorpe—stark, sensual, exacting. Where Anthos revels in floral abundance, Thalis embraces restraint: one flower, one gesture, rendered through AI with photographic precision. These images are quiet provocations—studies in beauty, simplicity, and the tension between light and shadow.
This floral series expands traditional cyanotype into a layered, digital spectrum. Created entirely with AI, some images explore CMYK halftones, colour floods, and offset textures, while others remain anchored in deep Prussian Blue. The work transforms botanical motifs into compositions that blur the line between print history and synthetic invention.
Digital portraits where the dirty workwear of manual labourers is fetishised through the lens of queer desire. These working-class heroes—gritty, tired, and masculine—were all created with AI. The images explore the tension between hardness and vulnerability, exposure and protection, and the slow, unspoken torture of wanting someone you can’t have.
This series of synthographs begins with a cut—into linoleum or wood. Stylised flowers and the male body emerge from these virtual surfaces, carved in digital relief. Inspired by traditional Linocut and Woodcut printmaking, but created entirely with language, these images explore how prompt and pressure can echo the mark of the hand.
Etched into black ink against off-white ground, these images recall the precision of etching and engraving. Male bodies and floral motifs alternate—rigid, poised, and controlled. AI hallucinations become part of the medium’s charm. Not pastiche or reproduction, but simulation. A modern take on classical ideals, made with the hand that doesn't exist.
Pull presents bold, colourful male portraits and figure studies imagined through AI with a screenprint aesthetic. Layered and luminous, these images transform the body into surface, icon, and gesture. More than imitation, they are synthographic visions—charged, sensual, and unapologetically contemporary in their presence.
Ceramic vessels paired with tables, rendered entirely through AI. From glazed finishes to mid-century lines, each composition feels plausible yet impossible—photographic, but not real. Ceta explores design through simulation, using AI as both sketchbook and lens. Nothing is physical, yet everything follows the logic of the tangible.
A digital nature study rendered with Flux 1.1 Pro Ultra. Synthetica explores artificial landscapes made by AI—glitched, pixelated, painterly, and precise. These images do not simulate reality; they reimagine it. Bold, synthetic, and unapologetically artificial, this is nature through the machine’s eye: invented, improbable, and eerily believable.
Ficta presents a collection of AI‑generated sculptures—non‑objects that feel tactile, uncanny, and utterly believable. Crafted in simulated materials, these impossible artefacts invite viewers to linger in a contemplative space between illusion and reality. Quiet, surreal, refined—yet undeniably physical in presence.
A series of imagined floral ceramics where clay and flowers merge into hybrid forms. Created with artificial intelligence, these objects hover between handmade and impossible—blossoms become vessels, petals collapse into bowls, blooms dissolve into abstraction—each carrying the uncanny tactility of things that don’t exist.
Tactile illusions rendered in soft, synthetic light. Textura explores the emotional resonance of material surfaces—nests, knots, voids—formed from simulated thread, fibre, and fabric. These are not objects, but sensations: visual murmurs of touch, memory, and silence. A suite of synthographs that whisper to the hand, as well as please the eye.
This series explores the simulated precision of vector graphics using generative AI. Clean lines, bold colours, and geometric motifs echo the aesthetics of digital design software—without using any. These are not true vectors, but visual imitations: constructed by prompts, rendered by machine, and flattened into symbols, shapes, and surface.
Flowers as surface and ornament. Inspired by William Morris yet conjured by AI, these images transform nature into decoration—lush, luminous, and infinitely repeating. Each pattern is hyperreal yet unreal, convincing yet impossible: floral abundance without bouquets, motifs without borders, illusions blooming into infinity.
Elysia is the romantic chapter of Anthos—painterly floral compositions that hover between form and gesture. Soft, luminous, and dreamlike, they dissolve realism into mood. These bouquets are tokens of intimacy reimagined in digital form: abundant yet weightless, ephemeral yet tender, like fragments of romance suspended in light.
Echo is an experiment in reversal: artworks generated not from prompts, but from their own written descriptions. Each image is an echo of its text, a reflection made strange. The result is a cycle of translation—language into image, image into meaning—where creation folds back upon itself. What you see here is art eating itself. Now there’s an interesting thought.
Edwardian gentlemen drift into Carnaby Street, 1967—rose-tinted, and paisley-clad. Inspired by the Peacock Revolution, Avedon’s Beatles, and the colours of psychedelia, these digital portraits are AI-painted hallucinations with Post-Impressionist brushwork, where fashion and vision blur. The last page, the final flourish.
When I look online at what passes for AI-generated art, I see an aesthetic that repeats itself endlessly. It is a “default look” that dominates social feeds and community platforms: endless glow effects and hyper-detailed surfaces, particle storms and glittering textures, stitched together with familiar tropes—glowing orbs, vaporwave neon, fantasy portraits, over-saturated dreamscapes. Again and again, the same genres reappear: cyberpunk skylines, armored warriors, dragons circling floating castles. These images are designed to grab attention but not to hold it. They impress at a glance, but only for a moment. They are surface without substance—glossy, algorithmic spectacles made for the scroll, not for the wall. Of course, there are talented synthographers producing strikingly original work, but I am speaking of the broader flood of images that now dominates search results. When so many use the same tools, models, and prompt clichés, the results converge into a uniform aesthetic. You can often spot “the AI look” in a second, whatever the subject.
My own work is a deliberate departure from that default. I aim for restraint rather than excess, cohesion rather than chaos. I build projects that are structured, not scattered; each series often has its own palette, its own logic, its own internal consistency. Rather than relying on fantasy clichés or algorithmic spectacle, I choose motifs that are grounded—objects, flowers, landscapes, textures—and treat them with care. I want the images to breathe, to hold their place, to live with you over time. This difference matters. It is the distinction between making “AI art” and making art with AI. The tools are the same, but the intention is not. Where most see an engine for excess, I see a way to work with precision—to explore subtle variations, to create quiet illusions, to test how far restraint can go. I’m not against bold colour, but I’m against when it’s paired with formulaic spectacle. In a culture of visual abundance, choosing calm, order, and refinement is not timidity; it is a position. It says: an image can be generous without shouting; it can be decorative without being empty; it can be new precisely because it refuses the easy, overused tricks. That refusal is not a limitation—it is the work.
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