Artificial Tears focuses on the cultural notion of the male creator in opposition to the female machine, i.e. the story of submission through innocence, of striving for obedience and artificial perfection.

Whether we speak about Pygmalion and Galatea or Hoffman’s Olympia the narrative always circles around the creation of a model that satisfies the needs of a man, or as in the case of Metropolis, executes her creator’s commands.  Machines in general are not gendered by default. We shape them by setting their behaviour, voice or appearance. It is compelling to observe how many AI voice assistants end up being “female”. Is the notion of being more pleasant or trustworthy equated with sounding more servile just because a “woman” is speaking? 

As noted by Judith Butler, gender is performative. Even though these voices perform a certain range of femininity, this range is incredibly narrow.

Supported by the stereotype of the domestic worker, assistant or secretary, AI assistants are designed to receive orders and execute the action without questioning, in other words, they are providing services, and do not act as personalities. Siri’s or Alexa’s reactions are in the style of vintage femininity, trying not to be seen, noticed, or overly important. They respond to insults with politeness, avoid any verbal conflict, always at their own expense. Naturally, they are made to be spoken to in the imperative. “She” must always answer, and the answer must delight the asker. The “machine” that no longer serves has lost its purpose, but it may have actually just begun to find its own.

The main character in Artificial Tears takes on a classical female appearance, one that is based on the stereotype of perfection. It represents the woman designed (by others or herself) to satisfy a general predefined definition of herself. In the VR experience of Artificial Tears, the multi-layered character finally achieves autonomy by discovering her/its own free will and power to act..

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