Ai Makita on Animism, AI, and the New Materiality of Her Latest Work 'Metabolizing Machine'

In 2011, a tsunami following a 9.0-magnitude earthquake flooded the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant in Japan. Causing the cooling systems to fail and power outage, engineers were left scrambling to resolve what had led to one of the most devastating nuclear emergencies in Japan’s history.

Multiple explosions caused radioactive fuel to spread across the atmosphere. This reactor meltdown subsequently caused increased radiation exposure and long-term effects that will have an adverse impact for years to come—on people, quality of life, environment and more.

“Machines were created to enrich human life, yet they also have the capacity to become tools of destruction. The Fukushima nuclear disaster made me feel this very viscerally,” said visual artist Ai Makita, remembering the events that took place.

“I was already interested in philosophy, but after the disaster I began studying the history of humans and technology through Heidegger, Arendt, and Aristotelian thought, she said.  Reflecting on how the event reshaped her understanding of humanity’s relationship with machines and her own artistic development, she continued, “I started to question where our current rapid technological development might ultimately lead. There is a persistent sense of fear toward technology within me, and that fear fuels the imagination in my paintings.”

In this Q&A with Makita, we explore one of her most recent exhibitions, Metabolizing Machine, and learn more about her artistic exploration and discovery as she continues the discussion around the complex relationship between humans and machines through her work.

Timea Faulkner: Your paintings begin with photographs of machine parts and evolve through AI interpretation before you return them to physicality with paint. What draws you to this cyclical dialogue between hand and machine?

Ai Makita: The internet gradually became widespread when I was in middle school, so my generation lived in this interesting period where the digital world and the physical world began to merge. For me, physicality—material presence—has always been essential to making artwork. Yet at the same time, I felt something undeniably real existing beyond the digital screen. I still carry that dual awareness today, and it shapes the way I work.

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Timea Faulkner: You’ve described moments where the AI misunderstood your prompts, leading to unexpected imagery. Do you see these “miscommunications” as creative collaborations or as moments of resistance?

Ai Makita: I think collaborating with AI is similar to building a relationship with another person. When you first meet, you don’t know each other and must try to understand one another. Even after forming a kind of closeness, disagreements still happen. Encountering perspectives different from your own leads to new ideas. I maintain a certain distance while interacting with AI almost like a close friend. When AI misinterprets my prompts in unexpected ways, I often find a kind of humanity in those misunderstandings—and I find that very compelling.

Timea Faulkner: What emotions or ideas do you hope viewers carry with them after experiencing Metabolizing Machine?

Ai Makita: Although I paint machines as if they are breathing, I want viewers to interpret my work freely. I use reflective highlights in my paintings so that the work and the viewer can resonate with each other in some way. Each viewer will take away something different—and I welcome that multiplicity.

Timea Faulkner: Growing up and studying in Tokyo, how did your surroundings influence your fascination with machinery and the blurred line between the organic and the artificial?

Ai Makita: I spent my graduate school years in Tokyo, but as an undergraduate [student]  I lived in Tsukuba in Ibaraki Prefecture. Tsukuba is known as a science city, a center of advanced research that has produced multiple Nobel laureates. Although many people lived there, the city felt desolate. Almost dystopian, outside of the university and research institutes. Those four years in such an artificial environment had a profound influence on my imagination.

Timea Faulkner: The introduction of sculpture in Metabolizing Machine adds a new dimension to your work. How did moving from canvas to three-dimensional form change your understanding of space, material, and perception?

Ai Makita: My grandfather, father, and uncle were all sculptors, so I grew up surrounded by three-dimensional work. I always loved drawing, but I’ve also retained a strong interest in sculpture. Although I primarily work in painting, I have always approached the canvas from a three-dimensional perspective—seeking depth that pulls the viewer inward or forms that seem to push outward. Even the act of translating digital imagery into a physical painting can be seen as a transformation from 2D into 3D. I have long wanted to create sculptural works based on my paintings. Moving between two and three dimensions is something that has been with me since I was young.

Timea Faulkner: Your work references Masahiro Morioka’s essay on metabolism and machine life. What does the concept of “metabolizing” mean to you personally as both a human being and a creator?

Ai Makita: Metabolism is a fundamental concept of life. To make a painting feel living and dynamic, I use imagery that appears to shift or breathe on the surface. My aim is to create paintings that almost seem alive. Although this may not directly relate to metabolism, I have carried a strong sense of animism since I was a child—the distinctly Shinto belief that spirits can reside in non-living objects. I was raised Christian, but my father and grandfather both dedicated sculptures to temples, so I grew up deeply familiar with traditional Japanese spirituality. I think I was especially influenced by my father’s sculptures. Buddhist sculptures, in particular, holds an immense and enduring spirit within each individual form. Perhaps this is one reason why I strive to create images in my paintings that feel alive, animated with a sense of inner breath or soul.

Timea Faulkner: When you imagine a future where machines might “metabolize,” do you feel more hopeful or apprehensive about what that means for humanity?

Ai Makita: If AI were to surpass human capabilities to the point that it could autonomously replicate itself—essentially metabolize—that may mark the end of the human-centered world and the moment when machines overtake us. At the foundation of my work lies a fear of that future, a scenario often portrayed in science fiction that now increasingly resembles reality. We must actively understand the potential threat and potential salvation that machines may bring. We cannot blindly use the seductive technologies created by corporations and simply be absorbed into their profit structures.

Timea Faulkner: Many of your paintings balance fear and beauty, human vulnerability and mechanical power. How do you personally navigate that duality in your life and art practice?

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Ai Makita: People often assume I am a male artist. I think it’s because of the motifs I use, the scale, and the intensity of my work. I am a woman, but I feel a strong masculine force within myself—a kind of ambition to constantly acquire something new, a drive toward the sublime. It is, in a way, the human will itself. Human society, which has progressed linearly through technological advancement, seems to have been built upon this masculine force. As an artist, I want to depict this structure metaphorically and continue exploring it through my work.

Timea Faulkner: You once said, “I can be a different artist in New York.” After working internationally, do you still feel that way? If so, how have these experiences transformed your artistic identity?

Ai Makita: New York has always been a special place for me. Although I am Japanese, I struggled with the difficulty of self-expression in Japan since childhood. The cultural pressure to suppress individuality can be fatal for an artist. I love Japan deeply as a beautiful, orderly, and comfortable place to live but values are diverse, and the first place that truly accepted mine was New York. The energy there is constant and visceral. Without the experiences I had in New York, I would not be making work at my current scale.

Timea Faulkner: How do you think artists today can better bridge the gap between art communities in Japan and those overseas?

Ai Makita: I believe Japanese artists should actively go abroad, whether for residencies or study—and preferably for longer periods and at a younger age. Before moving abroad, my world felt very small, but now I can see larger systems and long-term possibilities. There is so much powerful art in Japan, yet it remains enclosed within a closed ecosystem. This is a tremendous loss. Not only artists, but also gallerists and curators should be more proactive in connecting internationally.

Timea Faulkner: As you continue exploring the boundary between human and machine, where do you see your work evolving next — conceptually or technically?

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‍Ai Makita: Going forward, I want to pursue both extremes at once: works that eliminate bodily presence entirely and feel purely mechanical, and works that emphasize materiality and human warmth. I don’t yet know what forms they will take. I shape my work while staying attuned to the atmosphere of the time. At the same time, I want to further explore the collaboration between AI and fine art. Many artists output AI directly as digital media, but in fine art, the use of AI is still primarily limited to image generation in the process. I want to create works that operate at the boundary of digital and analog—not just visually, but conceptually.

About the Ai Makita

Ai Makita is a Tokyo-based painter whose work explores the border of artificial and natural, drawing inspiration from the relationships between human technology and the sublime. Makita received an MFA from Tokyo University of the Arts in 2013, as well as an MFA from Tokyo Gakugei University in 2010.Recent exhibitions includeForm and Matter,Tokyo 8min, Tokyo (2025);A Thousand Ways to Object-hood, Yu-Hsiu Museum of Art, Taichung (2025);The ComingWorld 2025–2075, GYRE Omotesando, Tokyo (2025);人工的神々–Man has, as it were, become a kind of prostheticGod, PARCEL, Tokyo (2024);Prosthetic Gods, The Some-thing Machine, New York (2024); and Interspecies, Mitsu-koshi Contemporary, Tokyo (2024). She has participated in residencies at The Fores Project (London), ART CAKE (NewYork), Residency Unlimited (New York), and the Varda ArtistResidency (Sausalito). Makita’s works are included in the collections of the Museum of Tokyo University of the Arts, Chiba Bank, and the Takahashi Collection.

About Metabolizing Machine

Metabolizing Machine was Ai Makita’s first solo exhibition at Baert Gallery and a pivotal presentation within her ongoing practice. Developed over more than a decade, the body of work traces its origins to the aftermath of the 2011 Fukushima nuclear incident—a moment that confronted Makita with the alarming truth that human-made technologies can evolve beyond the control or comprehension of their creators.

In this series, Makita visualizes the unsettling possibility of machines morphing into living organisms, translating collective anxieties about technological overreach into vivid, biomorphic paintings. The exhibition’s title draws from Masahiro Morioka’s 2023 essay Artificial Intelligence and Contemporary Philosophy, which reflects on philosopher Hans Jonas’s theory of “metabolism” and its implications for modern machine society. Jonas’s distinction between living beings and artificial life—the presence or absence of metabolism—became a central, generative idea for Makita as she explored the boundary between the mechanical and the organic.

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