Artist Spotlight — ctlr_faces - 4me4you

Featuring an Exclusive Q&A Session

Artist Spotlight — ctlr_faces (Robin Kane)

Robin Kane, known online as ctlr_faces, is an award-winning multidisciplinary artist, visual designer, and photographer. His practice merges generative art with lens-based media, blending emerging technologies and traditional methods to explore themes of identity, displacement, and the universal quest for belonging.

MY PROCESS

Driven by a deep curiosity about memory, culture, and representation, his work explores how visual storytelling can reveal hidden dimensions of the self. Through experimental photography, conceptual design, and AI-assisted creation, he aims to craft work that is emotionally resonant and technically precise, rooted in critical inquiry and refined aesthetics.

On Artistic Process & Tools

Can you walk us through your creative process—from initial spark to finished piece—including how you use AI tools?

  • When I was a kid, I used to sneak out my sketchbook after everyone went to sleep and draw women in beautiful dresses until I passed out – pen uncapped, ink all over the sheets. My mum would get mad about the ruined mattress, but we laugh now because I still do it… just with better tools (and I get paid for the stains).
  • That instinct – to create, to imagine – has never left. It still starts with a flicker: a gesture, a texture, a stranger’s face, or a sentence overheard on the street. I’m deeply inspired by the women who raised me – my grandma’s, my mum, my sister, aunts – each of them strong, elegant, and full of courage. That blend of resilience and grace has become the visual language I return to again and again.
  • Travel has added another layer. Meeting new cultures and people, hearing their stories, witnessing the shared need to belong, to be seen & valued – that human thread runs through my work too. There’s always a quiet dialogue between memory, identity, and place. My background is in digital art, so I’m endlessly curious – ideas come from books (yes, still!), films, fashion archives, or a random scroll online. And while I’m not a fashion designer by training, I’ve always loved it. Somehow, it keeps sneaking into everything I make – like ink on the sheets.

What platforms or techniques (AI-based or traditional) do you rely on most?

  • I usually begin by sketching on paper – not about what I want the outcome to look like, but what I want it to convey. It’s less about describing the scene and more about shaping the symbolic weight, the emotional tone, and the overall concept. 
  • Once I have that, I photograph the page and run it through ChatGPT to help me structure and rephrase it more clearly. From there, I shape it into a prompt using a format I’ve developed over time – a kind of skeleton I trust. I always start with a minimal version of the prompt: no detailed fashion descriptions, no character traits – just the composition, mood, and concept. That way, I can test whether the core idea is strong before layering in the visuals.
  • I keep iterating from there – changing details, trying new options, again and again. Working with AI requires patience; you have to give it time. Don’t let the first results discourage you. I know many AI artists prefer to write a sentence or two and let the AI surprise them – but that doesn’t work for me. I need to be in conversation with the image from the very beginning and own the creative process.

Do you follow any structures or routines?

  • The moment I land on a composition I connect with, I immediately know what comes next – the mood, the artistic direction, the colour palette, the model’s look and styling, even her traits. From there, I build a very detailed, intentional prompt. Every element is crafted with care to better engineer the prompt. And even then, I keep iterating – subtly varying the output to explore different options, refine the tone, and push the work further. Once I get a result that hits exactly what I envisioned, I continue developing it – experimenting with new compositions, camera angles, and poses to deepen the visual narrative.
  • For each composition, I generate many variations. Some I edit using inpainting and AI tools to remove or add details, refine gestures, or fix inconsistencies. I download the strongest ones and lay them out on an infinite canvas – just to get that birds-eye view. This helps me curate, arrange, and select the best. Once I narrow it down to around 10–15 images that offer variety and cohesion, I bring them into Lightroom and Photoshop for final editing. Since my work isn’t just for social media – sometimes it’s printed large-scale or used in video installations – I make sure the quality is top-tier.
  • Some of my work also goes into AI motion. Right now, I’m using tools like Veo and Kling for that. I used to use Runway, but not anymore. Midjourney just added a motion feature too – still haven’t tried it yet, but it’s on my list.

How do you approach prompt engineering and iteration in your workflow?
and how do you approach character consistency or storytelling across works?

“I don’t leave room for the AI to “fill in the blanks.” I treat it as a tool to realise my vision — not to invent one for me”

  • My prompts are usually between 3,500 to 4,500 characters. Yes, yes – control is crucial for me. I allow very minimal AI creativity or interpretation because I don’t rely on AI for exploration – I use it for execution.
  • Prompting is everything in AI, but even more important is prompt adherence. Not all models or tools honour that properly. I specifically choose models that understand and respect the prompt – Midjourney and Sora, for example, don’t have hard character limits, but Midjourney does have practical constraints on how much it actually responds to. So I often work in phases and iterate carefully.
  • To achieve the precision and consistency I need, I developed a very specific prompt template. It helps me communicate clearly with the model, and it gives my work a consistent structure. Control is essential – I describe every single detail in the image: the scene, character positioning, pose, facial features, hair and hairstyle, expression, relationships between elements, makeup, outfit silhouette, fabrics and textures, backdrop, camera angle, lens, photography technique, artistic direction, and overall mood. Sometimes, certain words get interpreted differently than I intended, so I experiment with alternatives until it hits just right.
  • I don’t leave room for the AI to “fill in the blanks.” I treat it as a tool to realise my vision – not to invent one for me. That’s how I achieve consistency. I basically create my own version of “vary subtle” logic.
  • As for character consistency, I’ve experimented with LoRAs and character training – it can work well, but it’s hard to justify training a character when you’re still discovering them. And truthfully, many of those custom models are weak visually and have limited style versatility. For now, I prefer to build consistency manually, through storytelling, direction, and refined prompting.

On Inspiration & Philosophy

What drives you to create - emotion, message, aesthetics, curiosity? Has this changed since working with AI?

“I create to process, to surrender, to express, to connect — it’s a necessity for me to survive”

  • Emotions, curiosity, and connection – those are what drive me. Aesthetics are important, but not as a motivation – more as a core value. I’ve always created; the drive is always there, though it finds its own discipline. I create to process, to surrender, to express, to connect – it’s a necessity for me to survive. It’s the feeling of something inside that needs to be released, let go of, and no longer held. It’s about inner clarity, emotional honesty, and learning to listen to what lives beyond language.
  • These emotions are shared – they’re universal. I’m not trying to be original for the sake of it. I try to catch what’s inside and outside and reimagine it in a way someone else might not. The best ideas come when I surrender – when I’m not trying to force them or impress. When I’m quiet enough to feel what’s actually there.
  • As someone who’s often felt like they don’t belong – who’s experienced rejection almost constantly, for identity, for sexuality, for simply existing – I create from that place. From trauma, love, erotics, shame, rage, longing, and humanhood. That’s where I start: from the personal. But I always aim to make it universal, so others can find their own stories and hopes within it.
  • Working with AI hasn’t changed that. If anything, it’s made the process easier – faster to explore and execute. I no longer need to travel or spend thousands to bring a vision to life. The tools have changed, but the instinct remains the same.
  • Everyone can use generative tools – just like anyone can hold a camera or pick up a brush. That doesn’t make you an artist. The artist gives it meaning. The artist gives it purpose. 

Where do you find creative inspiration?  Are there recurring themes or ideas that continue to surface in your work?


“Memory – how it reshapes itself over time, how it becomes what we choose, or need, to remember”

  • Inspiration comes from everywhere, as I mentioned earlier. I observe everything – the street, the screen, the way someone moves or speaks, a passing conversation, a flash of fantasy, or simply something I love and miss. I’m always collecting fragments – quiet details that later find their way into the work.
  • There are certain themes I keep returning to –  identity, urges, the deep human need to be loved, understood, and to be accepted. I’m fascinated by memory – how it reshapes itself over time, how it becomes what we choose, or need, to remember.
  • My work often explores the tension between protection and control versus vulnerability, surrender, and acceptance. That push and pull between holding on and letting go. Overall, I’m drawn to emotional layering – to the way people carry both fear and longing at once. That’s why I use fashion and form not just as aesthetics, but as storytelling tools. Not to dress a body, but to build a character. To reveal an emotional truth without saying a word.

Is there a philosophy or purpose behind your art?

“Art is not about making things — it’s about making meaning. Ease doesn’t erase intention. Speed doesn’t cancel depth”

  • Absolutely. For me, art is not about making things – it’s about making meaning.
    I create to hold tension, to sit with contradiction, to say the things that don’t have words. Art is how I process what can’t be neatly expressed: grief, memory, longing, transformation. It isn’t meant to comfort. It’s meant to complicate.
  • Art is one of the last places where we can experience ambiguity without judgment. It’s not entertainment. It’s not content. It’s a mirror, a wound, a question. It speaks in texture, gesture, distortion, and silence. And at its best – it doesn’t tell you what to think. It makes you feel something you didn’t know was yours.

What do you believe art should achieve in the age of AI?

  • In the age of AI, that purpose doesn’t disappear – it becomes more urgent. Art now lives inside systems. Inside networks. Inside code. Life is changing – every profession is evolving through AI. So why not art?
  • There’s a romantic idea that real art must come from sweat, suffering, and struggle. That if it’s easy, it can’t be meaningful. But ease doesn’t erase intention. Speed doesn’t cancel depth. I don’t believe AI makes the work less – it just demands that we bring more of ourselves into it.
  • AI is a different kind of memory – one that asks new questions. The question now isn’t what is art, but what does art do inside the algorithm? What emotional residue survives when something is generated?

On Identity & Intention

Do you see yourself more as a creator, curator, or director when working with AI, and how has this shaped your identity as an artist?

“I curate to resist the algorithmic flood, the endless scroll, It’s to create a call to attention”.

  • First and foremost, I’m a human being who wants to connect with others. That’s the core of everything I do. It’s about the intent to connect – not necessarily to be liked. I don’t create to be liked – but yes, being received, being felt – that’s a beautiful thing.
  • I see myself as all three: a creator, a director, and a curator. But at heart, I’m mostly a creator. When I’m in the process, I surrender to it. Every time I make something, it feels like an act of becoming. Sometimes I reframe the world through my lens and offer a new perspective. Other times, I take on the role of a director – setting the stage, guiding every detail, and letting the work perform itself with precision and control.
  • When I create, I try to catch emotions before they turn into language. They drive me, they direct me – but I don’t like to explain them. Because once we name them, something gets lost. The pulse softens. The power slips away. They become rationalised, then dismissed. So I stay in that raw, in-between space – where the feeling still vibrates.
  • But when it’s time to share the work, the role shifts. I become a curator—reflecting, contextualising, shaping the experience, telling the story. Every placement is a decision about what matters. It’s about creating relationships between things, about shaping how meaning is felt.
  • AI can generate – but it cannot care. The human curator brings intention, context, and ethics to the surface. I curate to resist the algorithmic flood, the endless scroll, It’s to create a call to attention.

On Challenges & Community

What are some challenges you’ve faced—technically or personally—while working with AI art, and how have you addressed them?

  • Starting from a more technical point of view, I’d say one of the biggest challenges is prompt engineering. AI doesn’t immediately understand your vision—it reads literal words, not facial expressions, not intent or hope. It tries to guess what you want—and if you don’t tell it, it simply doesn’t know. It always generates something – often pretty, often polished – but it’s infused with its own kind of automated creativity, shaped by how it’s been trained. And that can be seductive. It can pull you in while quietly pushing you away from your original intent.
  • The algorithm doesn’t know what it’s creating, or why it matters. There’s a kind of loss that happens when you hand over your intention to a system that doesn’t feel. It creates – but it doesn’t care. It can’t, maybe yet. 
  • To deal with that, I’ve built systems around it – very specific prompt structures, workflows, visual patterns – that help me stay in control. I still bring methods and disciplines from the art world before AI. That foundation is essential. If your entire creative discipline and routine begin with AI and not before it, you’re building on fragile ground – you’re missing a lot.
  • Then there’s the pace. The AI art world moves fast – new tools, new models, better image generators, advanced video engines. I do love learning, but it can be overwhelming – and honestly, often hideously overlooked. Sometimes I speak with other AI artists, and there’s this sense of superiority, like being the first to try a new tool somehow makes you more valid. But we’re artists, not product managers. If you’re not grounded in your own voice, it’s dangerously easy to get swept up in the noise and forget why you started creating in the first place.
  • And of course, there’s the cultural resistance – traditional art vs. AI art. There’s still a lot of dismissal. People assume AI art is lesser because it seems faster, easier, less physical, or less rooted in suffering or “real” process. I get it – AI lacks consciousness. But the human using it gives it purpose. The meaning doesn’t come from the machine. It comes from the creator. Using AI doesn’t make you a creator or an artist, just like using a camera doesn’t. Making art does.

  • The digital era has already transformed art forever. The museum – the high-wall sanctuaries that once made you feel like you were in the presence of God – don’t work the same way anymore. Art lives on screens now. It’s everywhere. It’s for everyone. And still, there are gatekeepers trying to preserve tradition – even when they can’t tell what was made with what. But when you reduce art only to its craft, you insult its core.
  • Art is about intention. Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable – and yes, you can absolutely do that with AI. The world is changing. These gatekeepers are guarding ruins.
  • Personally, what keeps me grounded is connection. When I see how my work moves people – when my mum loves it, when my family sees themselves in it, when strangers feel something – that’s everything. I create to inspire. And if someone is inspired by it, I’m grateful. For them, and for myself.
  • And of course, there’s the constant questioning around originality. That’s another challenge – but that’s a whole conversation on its own.



What advice would you give to new AI artists, and how do you hope the AI art community evolves in the future?

  • The algorithm can generate endless images in seconds. But only a lived life can make something matter. So my first advice would be –  go live a worthy life. Really live. Walk through the world with your eyes wide open. Spectate. Participate. Fall in. Climb out. Meet people. Explore cultures. Let yourself ache, wonder, desire. Get hurt. Get rejected. Be erotic. Be numb. Fall in love. Get obsessed. Get ghosted. Say goodbye. Understand yourself. Unlearn yourself. Go to therapy. Discover your motives. Love yourself. Love humanity. Grow empathy. Reflect. Heal. Break again.
  • Then – make art from that.
  • Don’t spend hours scrolling, waiting for a spark. Your childhood is your archive. Your memories are your mood board. The world you’ve lived through is the only feed that truly matters. Go there. There’s gold in it.
  • Yes, the tools are powerful – master them. But knowing how to use them doesn’t make you an artist. You make you an artist. Your choices. Your care. Your courage to make mistakes, to be misunderstood.
  • Don’t confuse output with authorship. Don’t confuse aesthetics with depth. And don’t just feed prompts into a model and wait for magic.
  • The future doesn’t belong to those who master the interface. It belongs to those who bring meaning to the algorithm.
  • Create with intent. Don’t get comfortable.
  • I’m not worried about AI’s evolution. That will happen – inevitably, relentlessly – and it will be brilliant. What I fear is the absence of intention. Work made for reach, not resonance. A future where emotional clarity gets buried beneath infinite content.
  • I hope the AI art community continues to grow into something beyond aesthetics and technique – faster than trend cycles, and more honest than algorithmic perfection. Less obsession with the media, more attention to its intent and impact. Less focus on what we haven’t seen before, more on what we can still feel.
  • Because the future of art is still, and always will be, human at the core.
  • Code is not neutral. It’s trained on patterns, culture, memory, and bias. And art made with it shouldn’t be neutral either. The beauty isn’t in the model or the technology – it’s in what we do with it. What we choose to carry forward. What we challenge. What we care for.
  • I want to see artists bring their whole selves into the process. To use AI not just as a generator – but as a mirror. A collaborator. A question, not an answer. Not magic – but material. Something we shape with our values, our histories, our contradictions.
  • Because the future doesn’t need more perfect images. It needs images that feel like someone made them – with intention.

Artist: ctlr_faces

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