Of Machines and Souls: The Ghibli Trend and the Art of the Handmade
A recent internet trend has captivated millions: AI-generated scenes in the style of Studio Ghibli. These dreamlike animations, conjured in seconds, pay tribute to the iconic beauty of Ghibli films—but they also raise uncomfortable questions. Each original Ghibli frame was lovingly hand-drawn, a laborious process demanding time, talent, and devotion. There’s something almost sacred in that kind of creation, where every stroke of the brush carries the artist’s breath, emotion, and intention.
LinkedIn presented interesting dialogues about it and Mr. Jatin Modi drew a striking parallel to another loss—the story of the Indian Muslin weavers. Centuries ago, their fingers moved like poetry, weaving fabric so fine it was called woven air. These artisans didn’t just make cloth; they embedded prayers into the warp and weft. Their skill was honed over generations, passed down like a family heirloom, until British colonial forces crushed the industry, favoring faster, cheaper machine-made imports. The loss wasn’t just economic—it was cultural, spiritual, human.
This moment begs a question we must ask ourselves again: Is it worthwhile to make everything machine-made? Machines can replicate and perfect, but they cannot remember. They do not feel. They cannot carry the weight of identity, heritage, or soul. In our pursuit of speed and precision, are we trading away the very things that make art—and life—meaningful?
There are still those of us who cherish the imperfect stitch, the uneven glaze, the human touch. Because behind every handmade piece lies a story, a spirit, a set of hands guided by something more than efficiency: intention, love, and memory. And perhaps, in our increasingly digitized world, what we crave most is not perfection—but presence.
Someone also posted AI generated images of Indian heritage art styles and was wondering why no one thought of doing to that to our heritage arts! It seems that as technology progresses, the very essence of traditional craftsmanship is at risk of being lost. Indian heritage arts—whether it is intricate hand woven textiles, vibrant Madhubani paintings, or the delicate work of Channapatna toy makers—are in danger of being overshadowed by machine-made replicas, including those generated by AI. These artisanal traditions, which have been passed down through generations, are not just skills but also a way of life, a means of preserving culture and history. But when AI can recreate their designs, without the same history, intent, or soul behind them, it raises a grave concern: if the demand for authentic, handmade works declines in favor of quicker, cheaper alternatives, we could see entire cultural practices vanish.
Let the AI generate, let the machines produce—but may we never forget the irreplaceable beauty of what only human hands and hearts can make. For in the imperfect, in the lovingly crafted, is where true magic lies—and it is these imperfections that preserve the identity and soul of any heritage. In honoring and protecting these traditions, we honor ourselves and the generations to come.