AI’s Impact on Singapore’s Art Scene: How Artists Adapt

You open your laptop to a familiar sight. A gallery of stunning images fills your screen. A perfectly plated gourmet meal, a cinematic car commercial, a vibrant concert poster. These visuals share a secret. None took weeks of sketching or days of digital painting. Each appeared in seconds, conjured by a few typed commands to a generative AI tool. Across Singapore, from design studios to art schools, a quiet revolution is underway. This new technology promises efficiency but also ignites fierce debate about the very soul of creativity.

Artists here are grappling with a fundamental question. If a machine can mimic style and output in a blink, what protects the human creator? For illustrator Goh Wei Choon of The Woke Salaryman, the core issue is ethical. Generative AI models are trained on vast datasets of existing art, often scraped from the web without permission. To him, this is not inspiration. It is theft. “Of course, artists draw inspiration from one another,” Goh explains. “But their influences are transformed through their own experiences and artistic judgement. There is a transformative effort put in.” When freelance animator Jolene Tan sees AI generate near shot-for-shot copies of existing animations, she feels the same violation. “That’s my precious work that I’ve spent hours on,” says illustrator Farihath Samsul. “AI art just makes that in seconds. How is that impressive? That’s stealing.”

The response from the creative community is a complex spectrum. Some reject the technology outright. Others adopt it eagerly for brainstorming or client work. Many occupy a uneasy middle, using tools they may distrust because their livelihood demands it. This practical tension defines the current moment. Veteran graphic designer Pann Lim of Kinetic Singapore observes this range firsthand. He notes a crucial distinction between artistic expression and an artist’s “rice bowl.” Some can afford to reject AI entirely. Others work for companies that expect its use. In today’s job market, refusal is not always a realistic option.

Protection in this new landscape is a puzzle. Some artists embed specific terms in client contracts, forbidding the use of their commissioned work in AI systems. Tools like Glaze and Nightshade, developed by researchers, offer a technical shield. They subtly alter digital art to “poison” AI training data or make styles harder to copy. Yet experts like Lim are skeptical. Once art is online, control vanishes. The origin of AI-generated images is already becoming opaque, making enforcement a daunting, individual burden. Muhammad, the videographer behind Ihasamic, argues this responsibility should not fall solely on creators. “The artist’s role is to make art,” he says. “It gets extremely tiring, and a person can only take so much.” He calls for organized movements and systemic guardrails.

This challenge pushes many artists to double down on what AI cannot replicate: human authenticity. For Muhammad, the answer is “overwhelming honesty.” This means fair pay for freelancers, supporting peers, and building a protective community. Some artists make their process visible. Jolene Tan shares videos of her meticulous animation work, which can take months. She hopes this transparency helps people value the human effort. For Goh, authenticity is deeper than process videos, which AI can now fake. The value of The Woke Salaryman lies in the synthesis of art and writing, a reflection of a unique perspective on the world. “It’s our thought process and our way of seeing the world that makes us, us,” he states.

Physical artists find their defense in tangible humanity. Muralist Terence Tan, known as Ubin Artist, believes the appeal of his hand-painted walls lies in their imperfections. Visible brush strokes, uneven lines, and the texture of the wall itself show human effort. “When you see human effort, which includes flaws, you appreciate that,” he says. His art is also shaped by spontaneous human interaction. He once painted a woman feeding a cat near his mural, a scene he witnessed and immediately incorporated. “That scene was all human,” Tan reflects. “An experience AI can never copy.”

Educators face their own complex balance. Institutions like the Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts introduce “use-of-AI” declaration forms for students. Provost Professor Chong Keng Hua says their role is not to prescribe a single stance but to let students interrogate the technology critically. “We want our graduates to be innovative without losing sight of what makes them uniquely human,” he says. Associate Professor Bernhard Schmitt from NTU’s School of Art, Design and Media offers a pragmatic view. He acknowledges disruption, especially in routine commercial work, but cautions against overestimating AI. “Generative AI produces outputs based on patterns and probabilities in existing data,” he notes. “This makes it particularly good at producing what is statistically likely or familiar.” He encourages students to use AI critically, to see its predictable output and then deliberately create something different. “The idea should be from you,” Schmitt insists. “But you must be different from generative AI, be better than the average.”

Goh points to a local example that clarifies the opportunity. He recalls an AI-generated National Day film where characters used overly formal language like “public housing” for HDB flats. It felt foreign, lacking the familiar warmth of Singaporean speech. This, he argues, is where local artists must assert their value. The future is not about competing with AI on volume or speed. It is about leaning into the cultural knowledge, lived experience, and distinctive perspective that only a human creator can bring to a Singaporean story. The path forward, as Lim suggests, is about integration without surrender. “You can use AI, but you don’t need to give up your soul.” The canvas of the future will be painted by those who remember that the most powerful tool is not in the software. It is in the hand, the heart, and the lived experience of the person who wields it.

• The evolution of creative technology
• The ethical implications of AI
• Artists’ experiences with generative AI
• Tools for protecting art
• The importance of human authenticity
• The role of education in creative technology