When you hear Refik Anadol speak about the future of art and technology, you can’t help but feel hopeful. His vision for the potential of AI art is one full of possibility and hope. He also readily recognizes the responsibilities that come with the capabilities and consequences of artificial intelligence. He sees failures and challenges as an opportunity to find out what else could be done—done better, done ethically, done sustainably, and done for the well-being of humanity.
Anadol lives and works in L.A., but like so many contemporary artists, can be found traveling around the world at any point during the month. He describes his studio as more of an atelier, with only over a dozen team members from a variety of backgrounds. From the idea of taking a point of data and translating it into a pigment, Anadol creates mesmerizing, dizzying, immersive installations that engage the senses—including, as of late, scent. Named data sculptures and paintings, his works, like the exhibition “Unsupervised” at MoMA, have been seen by millions (and engaged with for tens of minutes on average), and visually put forth complex ideas like, how does nature think? How do we capture the moment memory is made?
Next year, Anadol will take his groundbreaking practice one step further, opening DATALAND in Los Angeles, the world’s first AI museum. Whitewall spoke with Anadol about his vision for a new kind of institution.
Portrait of Refik Anadol by Efsun Erkilic.
WHITEWALL: What was the inspiration for DATALAND?
REFIK ANADOL: In over almost 10 years as a studio, we’ve had the privilege of working with incredible curators and cultural leaders across the world. Our challenge as a team has always been about embedding media arts into architecture or trying to find some complex ways of imagining virtual worlds, different canvases, and new technologies. We bring an experimental mindset to every project, so we thought, “Why don’t we try to create a dedicated space for pure experimentation—a playground?” With our background in architecture, technology, art, and AI, it felt like a natural step. My partner and wife, Efsun—we live and work together—suggested, “Let’s do it together.” So that’s how DATALAND came to be.
WW: What exhibitions you’ve done in the past impacted your vision for DATALAND?
RA: One key exhibition was “Unsupervised” at MoMA [Nov 19, 2022–Oct 29, 2023]. I’m deeply grateful to curators Paola Antonelli and Michelle Kuo, as well as the entire team at MoMA because the project was a true collaboration involving everyone—from carpenters and security to IT and art historians. It reached nearly three million visitors in one year with an average viewing time of 38 minutes. We learned a lot from that experience.
Then the Sphere in Las Vegas was an incredible project. And, Gaudí’s Casa Batlló, where we had an immersive room in a gallery called The Cube. It’s a fully immersive experience exploring the mind of the Gaudí through AI.
WW: And why was it important for DATALAND to be a museum, rather than like an immersive exhibition space?
RA: There are so many places where people can experience AI art that are fun and engaging, but they are not necessarily there to improve the cultural values of the society. While those spaces are valuable, I believe that a museum setting holds a special place. I have immense respect for institutions like MoMA, Guggenheim, Centre Pompidou… I learned a lot from collaborating with them and realized how essential they are for shaping cultural dialogues.
I’ve also been teaching for the past decade, and I see DATALAND as an extension of that—an institution where we can create, collect, and educate. It’s a humble beginning; we are a small institution, but we are committed to this vision.
DATALAND Unfolds at the Epicenter of AI in California
DATALAND, Courtesy of Refik Anadol.
WW: Your studio is in Los Angeles, but you travel all over the world for your art—so how did you arrive at Los Angeles for the site of the museum?
RA: If there’s an epicenter of AI, it is California, right? It’s clearly where the future of technology is shaped. Specifically, in Los Angeles, you see innovation in music, in cinema, in architecture, and in entertainment. It’s a city full of possibilities, and we want to tap into that cultural richness.
The space where DATALAND will be was designed by Frank Gehry, who is my personal hero. I collaborated with him in 2018 for the Walt Disney Concert Hall projections. He’s a legend. The moment I saw the space, I knew it was just perfect. It’s a beautiful, imaginative environment.
“The space where DATALAND will be was designed by Frank Gehry, who is my personal hero,”
Refik Anadol
And L.A. is home to many respected institutions we’re excited to collaborate with, like The Broad, MOCA, LACMA, and The Hammer. I mean, Ann Philbin was the first person to commission me when I was a student. Michael Govan is reinventing what it means to be institutional. The city is full of design, incredible minds, and souls.
WW: And it’s a community that quickly embraces these new institutions—I’m thinking of The Broad and the Academy Museum.
RA: That’s what makes L.A. so special. It has a deep appreciation for what’s fresh and forward-thinking. And I think the other good news is that I met with all these leaders, and they have been so positive about our approach. It’s about mutual enhancement. All these museums have their incredible archives. And I’ve been working with archives for over a decade. L.A. is just a naturally collaborative place. And it feels like the right environment to imagine this type of future.
I envision group shows, experiments with AI arts at different scales, and lots of community engagement, really together around this new campfire. DATALAND aims to be a place where data and AI are integral to its DNA. It’s important to discuss societal impacts first, even before the art itself, by demystifying AI, by teaching about AI, and by making it more accessible.
“It’s important to discuss societal impacts first, even before the art itself, by demystifying AI,”
Refik Anadol
And collecting AI art is not easy, as it’s often a living, evolving medium. We are figuring out how to address that step by step, starting with collection strategies and moving across exhibition plans.
WW: What will be the inaugural exhibition?
RA: The first exhibition will be about the Large Nature Model. During the pandemic, I was deeply affected by seeing parks and beaches completely closed off. It made me wonder: can nature come to us? I met with an incredible group called the Yawanawá in the Amazon rainforest in Brazil. I learned so much about what nature meant to them—something completely different than to us in our concrete jungle environments. The deeper I dove into nature and its context, the more I felt that something was missing.
I realized that even the most advanced AI models on earth focus primarily on human reasoning, while the most intelligent entity we have is nature itself. The Large Nature Model is an effort to find the voice of nature through AI. That’s the story behind the model, and it will be the theme of our first exhibition.
A Sensory Experience Championing Ethical AI
Refik Anadol, “Machine Memoirs” Space, Courtesy of the artist.
WW: How do you hope visitors will experience the museum?
RA: I believe that it will be an extraordinary sensory experience. Four years ago, we started experimenting with scent, for example. We have been working on a half-million scent molecular AI model to create unique olfactory designs. I’m really inspired by the response at MoMA, the idea of a living museum and living artworks, because I felt that we were pushing the boundaries of data narratives and creating a new vocabulary, a new perspective. It feels like inventing a new medium.
“It feels like inventing a new medium,”
Refik Anadol
WW: You mentioned ethical AI and how that part of that is asking for permission. Can you explain ethical AI and why that’s important for you?
RA: Super important because a majority of the artists at the moment are in this negative mindset because they don’t want to touch some random models. They think that it’s not ethical. And they’re right about certain parts of it. And I hear them. I mean, for making products and services that are used by millions of people as an assistant, maybe it’s not that important. But when it comes to artmaking, when it becomes a pigment, I think it’s very different. And I think that’s where I feel that many of my colleagues have been really struggling with what to do. I get tons of DMs from people around the world and I hear their concerns. I respond to those concerns, but I’m not just going to talk; I’m going to do it. The result of building a model ethically from scratch may not be the fastest AI, it may not be the most complex AI on earth—sure. But I know what data it’s trained on, and how much energy it uses. This grounds us the most.
AI means possibilities, but I think possibilities come with responsibilities. AI is not just a tool. It’s an intelligence maker. It’s not a simple tool at all. So that’s why I feel that anyone using this extraordinary powerful thing is responsible for it. In the last five years, in every show we’ve done, we show where data comes from, which algorithm we use, who invented them, and for which reason, and so forth. This is a tradition of our studio work. At Serpentine Galleries in London, nearly 90,000 people visited, the largest audience in Serpentine’s history. I received 30-plus students’ responses where I helped with their thesis, MFA, MA, or PhD. It’s fascinating. It opens up a new world. And it triggers more in-depth dialogues with other generations, and across the world. My attitude is not, “Here is me and my art, just understand me.” That’s just not my approach to AI art.
“AI means possibilities, but I think possibilities come with responsibilities,”
Refik Anadol
And as a teacher, I’ve been teaching for many years—it’s another part of learning to learn. Of course, some people think that art should not be defined anywhere, but I don’t think that’s enough in the AI space. The pieces that show our process that accompany our exhibitions are not necessarily slowing people’s minds or souls. I think, in fact, they enhance them. I’ve received hundreds of messages across the world that people feel very special in our exhibitions. And one of the reasons I believe that is the case is because we are creating a safe and secure space. If we know about something, it lessens the fear or paranoia, or hysteria. And I think that’s just that simple human instinct, learning to learn.
Refik Anadol’s Global and Diverse Team of Visionaries
Refik Anadol Studio; Courtesy of the artist.
WW: What is your studio like in L.A.?
RA: We have intentionally kept our Studio small, focusing on a tight-knit team based in Los Angeles, though we also have wonderful team members across the world. Within our L.A. team, we speak 15 languages and represent 10 countries. It’s a really beautiful, culturally rich environment. We have amazing AI data scientists, architects, computer graphics experts, and everyone is passionate about our vision. It’s more like a lab, I will say, or an atelier. Me and my partner, when we built the studio 10 years ago, we had this intention. From the beginning, it’s been about experimentation, taking risks, and learning from failures. In our studio, we constantly challenge chance and control. But at the core, it’s the same idea: to create art for everyone, regardless of age or background.
“From the beginning, it’s been about experimentation, taking risks, and learning from failures,”
Refik Anadol
WW: Has that always been at the core of your work, art for anyone?
RA: Absolutely. Since I learned that there was an impact of my work in 2008, when I first coined the term “data painting,” I’ve believed that art shouldn’t be confined to certain people or places.
I love galleries. I’ve collaborated with Jeffrey Deitch, Bitforms, Gagosian, and festivals like Art Basel and Frieze. Of course, we are a part of the culture, but I’ve always valued being independent and being able to shape our own path. And let’s be honest, digital art was overlooked by institutions for years, and I felt a need to first define, show, and truly experience the medium, and then create a space for it to thrive.
“I’ve believed that art shouldn’t be confined to certain people or places,”
Refik Anadol
WW: You’re a teacher, you talk about how you come from a family of teachers, and you’ve told the story of how in 2008, your aunt lost almost all of her vision and later your uncle experienced a loss of memory as well. Has your work always connected to the personal?
RA: I think throughout history artists reflect what’s happened to them, what happened to humanity in their work. In the context of humanity, my number-one source of inspiration is technology. I saw the birth of Internet, Web one, Web two, Web three, AI, quantum computers. It’s all happened. And like the moon, I just reflect back.
But on the other side, which is my family, to whom I’m very well connected, is also where I get inspired. My aunt had a wrong treatment in her early years and she unfortunately lost her vision significantly. So I grew up with her where I was her literally eyes. I learned so much about what a lack of vision in life means, and also what it means to be together and explain and explore the world. I have a huge respect and love for my aunt. She taught me so much. And, unfortunately, several years ago we learned that my uncle has Alzheimer’s, which I reflected on with an artwork called Melting Memories. I’m so grateful for Professor Adam Gazzaley and MIT’s Rosalind Picard. They are my mentors and heroes. I worked with them to really understand the idea of a memory. Can we quantify the moment of memory and turn this moment into art to celebrate the moment of remembering without bridging privacy? It was fascinating to imagine how our minds and memories are the most important things we have. So while I lost my uncle recently, I connect with many people across the world who share their stories. They found a connection with our work that I didn’t know. I learned through him.
These are the places where I know that with what we do—giving inspiration, joy, and hope to humanity, finding a different purpose in life—I feel connected.
WW: Talking with you, hearing you speak, I’m always struck by your optimism. What keeps you optimistic?
RA: It is a challenge to remain hopeful, but I find joy in the creative process and in discovering new innovations. It is easy to be cynical, but the real challenge is to ask: “What else can we do with this?” And that is a creative process. That requires something of a different cognitive capacity. Sharing something new and unique with the world is a deeply fulfilling experience.
“Sharing something new and unique with the world is a deeply fulfilling experience,”
Refik Anadol
And if the world likes it, I think that’s what happens when the art taps into someone’s mind and soul. I know it sounds very weird, but I feel like there is a kind of spiritual world that opens up when technology, humans, machines, and environments come together. Lately, I’ve been exploring the idea of art as a form of medicine. The world needs healing and I am hopeful that art can do that for us.
Refik Anadol, “Metamorphosis – Serpenti,” Courtesy of the artist.
