Why the Future of Art Isn’t About AI — It’s About Purpose

A controversy is unfolding in the art world. Thousands have signed an open letter urging Christie's to cancel its sale of AI-generated art. It’s a familiar cycle—each time a new technology enters the arts, there is resistance. Photography was once dismissed as a mechanical process rather than an art form. Cinema, in its early days, was seen as mere entertainment, incapable of serious artistic expression. Even the introduction of digital tools in painting met skepticism. And now, we have AI.

But the real question is not whether AI-generated art belongs in fine art institutions. The question is: How do we ensure that artistic integrity—whether in painting, sculpture, or cinema—is preserved?

Technology is inevitable. What matters is not the medium but the purpose behind its use. Art exists on a spectrum: at one end, we have work that expands human consciousness, deepens our aesthetic experience, and connects us to something beyond ourselves. At the other, we have creations optimized for commerce, where the primary driver is not artistic vision but market value. AI can and will be used for both.

This brings us to cinema—the youngest of the great arts, but also the most fragile. While the fine art world debates the ethics of AI-generated paintings, cinema as an art form is vanishing in plain sight. Once, masters like Tarkovsky, Parajanov, and Bresson used cinema to create works that touched the soul. Today, the biggest film festivals shape public perception by awarding spectacle-driven entertainment and social messaging films, while true cinematic expression is pushed into obscurity.

The world is rightly asking: What happens to art when AI is introduced into its creation? But we should also ask: What happens to art when commerce alone dictates its value? If institutions like The Louvre and Christie's are to guide the future of art, then their mission must not simply be to determine whether AI belongs—but to ensure that whatever is enshrined has true artistic merit, regardless of how it was made.

This is why The Cinema Sanctum must exist—before cinema as fine art is completely forgotten. The masters of cinema gave us a legacy of transcendence. If we do not safeguard it now, we may soon find ourselves in a world where only what is commercially viable remains, and the true power of cinema—like so many great artistic traditions before it—is lost to time.

The question is not about AI. The question is about purpose.