Synthetica

This is a study of nature in its most artificial form—a suite of images that neither imitate the real nor parody it, but instead embrace the digital with complete transparency. Nothing here is pretending. Fields, flowers, forests, clouds: all of them synthetic, assembled from code and inference, composed not with a brush or a lens, but with a set of instructions parsed by a machine. The result is an encounter with nature at one remove—filtered, translated, sharpened into data. This is not simulation. It is not even illusion. It is nature as reimagined by an artificial intelligence, and guided by a human hand that seeks not to deceive but to declare: this is what the machine sees.

The project traces a wide arc, from soft painterly renderings to aggressive glitches and pixel overload. At times it resembles a pastoral dream—a digital nostalgia for a countryside that may never have existed. At others, it fractures into abstraction, channeling compression artefacts, visual noise, and the texture of corrupted data. Circuit boards become fields. Binary code turns into flowers. Images stutter, flicker, distort. And yet there is beauty in the breakdown. Synthetica allows the machine to hallucinate, to trip, to reveal its own logic—or lack thereof. It is not a utopian vision of nature digitised, nor a dystopian one. It is simply a record of what happens when you ask AI to imagine the natural world with no obligation to reality.

At its core, Synthetica is about trust. In an era of misinformation and filtered everything, these images refuse disguise. They are not pretending to be photographs, nor are they trying to pass for paintings. They are unashamedly digital, authored through collaboration, and created for the screen. This is synthography at its most self-aware: not post-truth, but post-simulation. The work doesn’t ask whether these places are real—it insists that they are not. And yet, we believe in them. Perhaps because, deep down, we understand that in the age of artificial intelligence, seeing is no longer believing. But sometimes, it still feels like it is.