In a culture of instant gratification, these artists prefer to take it slow

The future of art is starting to look a lot like its past. Increasingly, creatives are reverting to an analog technique that even new technology can't replicate: human touch.

In an age of instantaneous digital imagery, the handmade approach to creating feels almost radical. Although digital tools and artificial intelligence are constantly reshaping how art is made and consumed, the projected growth of the handicraft market to nearly $1.16 trillion by 2035 suggests a persistent demand for human touch, with audiences valuing handcrafted art 62% more than AI-generated work. 

From reviving 19th-century photographic practices to reliance on acrylics and ink, the push for authenticity in the creative landscape is both enduring and increasingly urgent. 

Rather than maximizing efficiency at the expense of her craft, artist and educator Cynthia Katz challenges the speed of contemporary visual culture. She reuses, reimagines and reiterates the meaning behind the historic cyanotype process, which applies iron salts and UV light to produce vivid blue images and dates back to 1842.

What began nearly 40 years ago has evolved into a practice of cutting and reassembling bits and pieces of her various cyanotype creations, transforming them into new visual relationships in her latest work, “Almost Gone.â€Â 

“I love the tactility, I love the immediacy … the emulsions and the one-of-a-kindness … right now, it's about recasting, reimagining parts and making them whole, which to me, feels like a very current thing that a lot of other people are doing,†Katz said.

Katz's medium requires patience and embraces imperfection, mixing her own chemicals and relying entirely on sunlight that together create the insoluble blue dye images, and call for attentiveness to light and weather conditions. Through her sun-dependent process, Katz invites viewers to slow down and notice the tactile beauty of photography's origin.

“A lot of photographers took back 19th-century photographic process as digital photography was really taking hold. I will say: Film is back. Dark rooms are back. They've had a huge resurgence, and there's a huge resurgence in 19th-century processing, including cyanotypes,†Katz said. 

Art works to reflect the human experience. Shaped by thought and intention, processes like these give form to individual narratives through imperfections and their byproducts. Mediums such as cyanotypes and film are often subject to process errors: over- or under-exposure, graininess and other irregularities. These moments of imperfection become opportunities to transform mistakes into self-expression, allowing the work to feel more organic and personal.

Antoinette Winters, an artist based in Waltham, Mass., embraces self-expression with an unfiltered voice. She specializes in wall-work and installations that feature patterns and text.

“I keep a lot of text that I have accumulated over many years — some things I've overheard, or I read a lot of poetry — I love the sort of succinctness of the lines — and I also listen to a lot of political stuff. I'm always taking pieces from that, and I keep a running log of pieces of text,†Winters said.

Winters' work is heavily inspired by her time at Immaculate Heart College in Los Angeles, which has since closed, and the political tension of the late ‘60s. 

“I was there the last year that a woman named Sister Carita taught at the college. She worked with text on banners, and her posters and other artwork used color and text, and a lot of our projects involved text in one form or another,†Winters said.

The rise and availability of digital tools have shifted artistic practice toward immediacy, often prioritizing output over process. Despite this shift, Winters continues to rely on a slow, manual process to create.

“I look at what's being done now, and I'm sometimes really envious of young people's access to the equipment that's available now,†Winters said. “I've just been doing this for so long … there is something in the process, for me, of just working quietly and slowly with a pencil and a pen and paper that I find really satisfying.â€Â Â 

At its core, art endures because it reflects the slowness and intention linked to the human impulse to create. Even as tools evolve, handicraft offers a means of self-expression — something machines have yet to replicate.

Katelyn Kwok is a rising second-year communication studies and design combined major at Northeastern, exploring areas from video editing to graphic design to fine arts. Her academic work and independent projects implement both her minimalist and abstract style.

“I've always loved making art since I was little, but I became more serious about it when I took a studio art class in high school,†Kwok said, adding that the class introduced her to the concept of creating with “good intention†and emphasized the importance of having a reason behind one's work. “It definitely changed my perception when I look at art. I became more aware of the process of making art and feel I appreciate it more.â€

In a world increasingly shaped by automation and replication, the role of the human mind in making art has taken on a new significance. With its trial and error, the time it demands and the physical engagement it requires, art is no longer just about the final product but also about the process itself.

“As someone who majors in design, I prefer not to use AI, because I believe it can't understand or replicate the human experience,†Kwok said. “I do understand when people use it to run possible scenarios or to generate ideas, but personally, I believe that we have a responsibility to keep art human.â€