Sybille de Saint Louvent

6. You’ve mentioned drawing inspiration from emotions, memories, or sounds. Can you give an example of a project born from a non-visual stimulus?

SSL. It’s a bit paradoxical, because for me a sound, an emotion, a smell, or a memory will always
bring me back to an image, the two are intrinsically linked.
For example, I once created a fictional Prada campaign starting from nothing more than a song: I
Feel Love by Donna Summer. The track builds in rhythm and intensity, and as I listened, I
immediately saw a scene in my head, a chic, almost elegant rave, with a crowd seen from above.
Their jackets were arranged in a perfect color harmony, blending with the overall composition.
In my French mind, I feel love translated into a vision of people aligned, looking in the same
direction, united but still individual. I thought that was a beautiful message to carry visually.

7. You’ve said you prefer images that open up interpretive space rather than explain it. How do you
maintain that in commercial work for brands?

SSL. Honestly, I don’t really change my approach depending on whether the project is commercial
or not. The essence of my work is to tell a story. I’m not focused on presenting the product in a
perfect way — that’s not my role. If I were thinking in purely commercial terms, the product would
be huge, the logo everywhere, maybe even a price tag. But that’s not what interests me.
If you want to create real attachment to a brand, the worst strategy is to be purely commercial.
It might work in the short term, but it doesn’t build anything lasting. I believe you can write images
intelligently — leave space for the viewer to interpret, to project themselves, to play with the
language of the image.
I like to leave a certain zone of mystery, so the person engages with it and starts their own search.
It becomes a kind of visual conversation. In the end, the financial or commercial aspect isn’t really
my subject. My job is simply to tell stories.

8. You’ve noted how AI tends to reproduce Western aesthetics. What strategies do you use to
encourage cultural nuance and plurality?

SSL. This is a very current question. I don’t think I’m different from anyone else, I carry the same
biases as everyone. I was shaped by a very Western aesthetic, and it doesn’t come naturally to break
away from it. So I have to make a conscious effort: seek out visual and cultural references through
travel, immerse myself in the richness of the world we live in, and let that influence my work. It’s a
subject that genuinely concerns me. I don’t think we’re there yet, even though I can see that the
tools themselves have started integrating this idea into their parameters. A prompt I might have used
a year ago doesn’t get the same result today, there seems to be more built-in plurality in the way
they interpret.
Still, I think it’s essential to push for singularity. And that’s paradoxical, it’s obvious we should, but
it’s also difficult, because as social animals, we tend to look at each other and want to belong to a
group.
That instinct works against true plurality. There’s still a lot of work to do, and it’s not an easy topic.

9. What’s one misconception about AI art you wish to dispel—and what new responsibilities do you
see emerging?

SSL. There are so many. But I think the main one is this: AI is not a form of self. It’s not a mind.
It’s a tool, nothing more. Right now it’s everywhere in articles and conversations because it’s
recently become accessible to the general public. But AI has existed for years. What’s new is that
now anyone can use it, and that accessibility has made some people nervous.
We need to dismantle the idea that AI thinks for itself. The human is still the conductor. The
responsibility, though, is very real, especially in how and why we produce. There’s a growing habit
of creating images just to exist, whether as a brand or as an individual. But a lot of what’s being
produced isn’t necessary — not visually, not for knowledge, not for the human experience. That’s
what worries me: this bias towards speed and constant output.
The truth is, even if the tool is fast, the creative process still needs time. Whether you’re working on
a traditional shoot or with AI, good work requires reflection and concept time. The more time you
spend thinking, the better the result.
That’s something we can’t lose sight of. And despite appearances, AI is not endlessly flexible. I
often compare it to a capricious creative: you have to know how to guide it, be agile, but also accept
its limits. There’s still a lot of education to be done around how it works, and what it can and cannot
do.