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Avid Technology, the editing software company, is the latest entertainment industry player to introduce AI into its toolbox.

The company behind industry-standard platforms Pro Tools and Media Composer said it is entering a multiyear partnership with Google Cloud.

The goal is to implement both generative and agentic AI so that users can turn the “mostly manual process into an intelligent, AI-assisted experience,” Avid said in a statement Thursday morning.

“The primary bottleneck in Hollywood is manual labor [in editing] and managing thousands of hours of high-risk footage,” Avid Chief Executive Wellford Dillard told The Times. “This isn’t us just adding a new tool. It’s going from static files sitting on hard drives, to living data that understands its context.”

Google’s Gemini models and Vertex AI will be embedded directly into Avid’s processes, offering customers a chance to accelerate their editing time. Avid’s Media Composer, the editing system used on most professional film and TV productions, will now include a Gemini extension that could enhance metadata and generate B-Roll.

The company said that, overall, using AI on its platforms enables systems to understand the context of every file — allowing users to describe what they need based on visual movements, on-screen dialogue and emotional cues.

Dillard said that when someone uses Media Composer for editing, it can often be frustrating to click in and out of the application in search of the right shot buried within hours of footage. Now, he said, clients can describe the shot to AI, which could find it faster.

Anil Jain, global managing director at Google Cloud, said that these tools can do both simple functions like tweaking a scene’s background, or achieve more complex tasks, like creating promotional material.

“Most storytellers don’t get excited about putting together a promo, but if they could leverage AI to help do it a lot faster, then it becomes more interesting, gets it done and opens up the possibility of more creative time,” Jain said.

Avid, founded in 1987, is based in Burlington, Mass., and has since established itself as a pioneer in digital audio and video editing software. The company said its software was used to edit 87% of this year’s Oscar-winning productions, including the movies “K-Pop Demon Hunters” and “One Battle After Another.”

Avid is one of the many media companies that has recently incorporated AI into its services. In March, Netflix acquired Ben Affleck’s AI filmmaking company, Interpositive. Disney invested $1 billion into OpenAI’s now shuttered Sora platform. Even in the music industry, the “Big Three” labels have inked individual deals with AI startups like Udio, Klay and Suno — after suing a few of the same companies for copyright infringement.

Ramesh Srinivasan, a professor of information studies at UCLA, said these kinds of deals are the “new normal” and that “almost every single industry is being sort of eaten up by the Pac-Man of AI.”

But he said he’s not sure that this kind of AI will only be used for mechanical tasks.

“Editing is a task that involves creativity and human artisanship. An editor is not just someone who mechanically reproduces a number of steps. They have a sense of storytelling in mind,” said Srinivasan. “In terms of AI-created content, the initial research is showing that it is flattening creativity. It’s putting out the dominant patterns that it can copy, rather than reflect, the specific diverse and creative ways we can write, or edit.”

To Dillard, Avid’s CEO, incorporating AI is a way to ensure that creators can make enough content to keep up with audiences’ increasing demands.

“The demand for content is almost insatiable, and dollars are limited. This work can help compress those production timelines [and make] more content,” Dillard said. “Our hope is that we’re actually enabling the world, within the same budget constraints that the studios have today. You’re producing more content, and you are also opening the doors for smaller production houses to be able to produce more content competitively.”

Legendary street artist and activist Shepard Fairey was omnipresent at the High Desert Art Fair, which unfolded in and around Pioneertown over two unseasonably hot days last weekend. Founded more than seven years ago by art dealer Nicholas Fahey and artist manager Candice Lawler, the event has morphed from a few dozen people in Lawler’s living room to a few thousand roaming the dusty, sunny environs of the kitschy Old West town, with ancillary events in Twentynine Palms and Joshua Tree.

Fairey, who bought a home in the area during the COVID-19 pandemic, DJ’d a spirited opening night party at the Red Dog Saloon — spinning punk, post-punk and new wave hits by Joy Division, Fugazi and Black Flag to a packed house of art fans wearing paint-splattered DIY couture — and he spoke during the weekend’s most anticipated panel alongside Devo frontman and gallery owner Mark Mothersbaugh in a conversation moderated by singer-songwriter Harper Simon, son of folk icon Paul Simon.

Artist Shepard Fairey DJ’d the opening night party of High Desert Art Fair at the Red Dog Saloon in Pioneertown. The set was heavy of punk, post-punk and new wave.

(Jessica Gelt / Los Angeles Times)

Fairey was forthcoming about his opinions on art, politics and technology, drawing applause at one point for saying that using AI in art is not something to be afraid of. His assessment came after he lamented the fact that social media algorithms punish “decency” and reward “flamboyant narcissism and controversy.” He then joked that the “algorithm’s gonna love this. S— is gonna go nuts,” before talking about his recent collaboration with the digital artist known as Beeple who’s notorious in the art world for selling an NFT of his art in 2021 for $69.3 million.

The Red Dog Saloon was packed with art and music fans during the Friday night opening party of the High Desert Art Fair, which drew thousands of people to Pioneertown during the last weekend in March.

(Jessica Gelt / Los Angeles Times)

“He’s either the vanguard of a new way of working, and a maverick, a trailblazer, or he’s the worst thing that’s happened to art ever, or in between, or both, or neither,” Fairey said as the crowd laughed. “That’s totally my opinion.”

During a late-March event held in Fairey’s hometown of Charleston, S.C., Beeple Studios presented “Shepard Fairey: Obey and Resist,” which leveraged AI to help guests create their own Fairey-inspired paintings. During the panel, Fairey called the results “almost idiot-proof.”

He then elaborated on his feelings about AI’s encroachment on the art world, saying that if he were part of the “traditional art world thinking” he wouldn’t dare “go over to the dark side of digital art and AI, because that’s cheating.”

“All those same people a few hundred years ago when Da Vinci was using the camera obscura were like, ‘Get your proportions right, just by eye. Don’t use a cheating tool,’” Fairey said before taking the analogy to cave paintings and noting that those same types of naysayers would’ve been unhappy when it was discovered that horse hairs at the end of a stick were useful for distributing pigment and might have said, “That’s not keeping it real, bro. Use bloody elbow like everyone else.”

Fairey called that type of thinking “idiotic.”

“A tool in service of someone with a genuine vision that bends the tool to their will, rather than having themselves bent to the tool — that’s what creativity is about,” Fairey said.

The conversation about AI art started when Mothersbaugh, who was headlining a music set at Pappy & Harriet’s later that night, admitted that he was “fooling around with AI” and “just making myself laugh, like mutating old Devo photos and videos. It cracks me up. … I don’t know what is ever going to happen with it. Maybe they’ll just always live on my phone and eventually get thrown away or lost or something.”

The stage is set for an experimental music show by the General, featuring the stylings of Devo frontman Mark Mothersbaugh.

(Jessica Gelt / Los Angeles Times)

It’s a rock ‘n’ roll art fair

The idea that AI won’t cannibalize artists and their work on a massive scale is refreshingly utopian, but in many ways so was the fair itself. It takes magical thinking to grow anything in the harsh desert environment, which is why artists have been making the trek for decades. There was a youthful, rock ‘n’ roll vibe to the proceedings that was punk in quality but earnest in its quest to be seen.

Mothersbaugh’s gallery, MutMuz, occupied one of 20 rooms reconfigured as show spaces at the Pioneertown Motel, as did Gross!, a Chinatown gallery founded by former Liars drummer Julian Gross and populated with the work of musicians such as Karen O, O’s costume designer Christian Joy and TV on the Radio’s Tunde Adebimpe.

A work of painted fabric by Karen O‘s costume designer Christian Joy hangs in Gross! Gallery at the Pioneertown Motel during High Desert Art Fair. The gallery is owned by former Liars drummer Julian Gross who features plenty of work by fellow artists.

(Jessica Gelt / Los Angeles Times)

Desert pioneers are key to the spirit of the place

The fair featured tours of a number of the most interesting attractions in the area, including the Noah Purifoy Desert Art Museum of Assemblage Art in Joshua Tree and artist Andrea Zittel’s arts outpost and residency program, High Desert Test Sites.

Old computers are stacked at the center of an installation titled “Carousel” (1996) by Noah Purifoy at the Noah Purifoy Desert Art Museum of Assemblage Art in Joshua Tree.

(Jessica Gelt / Los Angeles Times)

Purifoy’s fantastical assemblages made of found objects and unloved detritus provided the most fitting example of the creative desert mindset. Outsider art in every sense of the word, and laden with scathing political and social commentary, Purifoy’s installations morph and change in the elements. A nonprofit exists to preserve them, but tour guide Teri Rommelmann said preservation efforts aren’t meant to alter the course of nature and time, but rather to save the work from sinking into the sand.

Noah Purifoy’s 2001 installation “White/Colored” is the most frequently vandalized piece in the outdoor Joshua Tree museum dedicated to his work.

(Jessica Gelt / Los Angeles Times)

Another aspect of the preservation work is erasing vandalism, which happened most during the pandemic, and was quite telling in its main target: An installation featuring a water fountain marked “White” next to a toilet affixed with a water fountain mouthpiece and labeled “Colored.”

Noah Purifoy’s sculpture “Ode to Frank Gehry” (2000) stands in the sand as part of the Noah Purifoy Desert Art Museum of Assemblage Art. The piece was once featured in a show at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, and transporting it can be quite tricky.

(Jessica Gelt / Los Angeles Times)

At High Desert Test Sites, Zittel’s famous A-Z West escape pods are no longer used for camping after the city said the nonprofit would have to attain a commercial camping permit to continue. Nonetheless, the organization’s 80 acres are home to a variety of artist residencies, which use the windswept isolation of the desert to activate dormant ideas. It was just announced that environmental artist Lita Albuquerque will have a residency at the site.

Andrea Zittel’s famous A-Z West escape pods at High Desert Test Sites can no longer be used for camping, but they still dot the nonprofit’s 80 acres of land as an example of the creativity that the desert environment unleashes.

(Jessica Gelt / Los Angeles Times)

The tiled kitchen that artist Andrea Zittel designed for the main residence at High Desert Test Sites, which she lived in for nearly 20 years and can now be rented by artists in residence.

(Jessica Gelt / Los Angeles Times)

Art is everywhere in the desert — and growing

The success of this year’s High Desert Art Fair bodes well for the future of the area as a cultural destination.

Next year will see the return of Desert X, which for the first time will keep its large-scale, site-specific installations up for six months, timed to coincide with other SoCal cultural happenings including the Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival and Frieze. There are also semi-permanent art installations everywhere in the area, including along driveways and the roadside. This includes a hair salon and museum in Joshua Tree, and the recently opened Reset Hotel in Twentynine Palms features dozens of rooms in retrofitted shipping containers, some with outdoor bathtubs and firepits. The hotel has also carved desert trails in its backyard, with plans to build an art park filled with installations.

The shipping container rooms at the new Reset Hotel in Twentynine Palms feature outdoor living spaces with firepits and bathtubs. Some overlook trails that will lead to a planned art park on the property.

(Jessica Gelt / Los Angeles Times)

An influx of artists, collectors and art fans will surely have an impact on an area that is already wary of gentrification and the rising cost of living that accompanies it. But there will be no stopping progress, only a utopian, Fairey-like hope that those who come will be inspired to keep and nurture the magical qualities of the place.

Imagine waking up early, eager to peep dazzling carpets of brilliant orange flowers at the Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve. Instagram posts promised a spectacle.

You drive to the reserve north of Los Angeles, but the rolling hills aren’t alive with color.

Bummer. The bloom is over.

Thanks to AI, and a local scientist, such disappointment may soon be a thing of the past.

This year, Steve Klosterman, a biologist who works on natural climate solutions, launched a “wildflower forecast,” powered by a deep-learning model, satellite imagery and weather data.

In a sense, Klosterman, of Santa Monica, developed the tool to meet his own need.

Last spring, the Midwest transplant was hankering to see some wildflowers. He assumed there was some online resource that offered predictions or leveraged satellite images.

“Surely, there must be something,” he recalled thinking. “But there was nothing.”

There are tools. The state reserve operates a live cam trained on one swath of land. Theodore Payne, a California native plant nursery and education center, runs a wildflower hotline, where people can call in and hear weekly recorded reports on hot spots.

“These are all essential resources,” Klosterman said. “At the same time, they’re limited.”

Klosterman isn’t green when it comes to plants. His PhD, at Harvard, focused on the timing of new leaves on trees in the spring and color change in the fall.

For a class project, a team he was part of built a website that predicted those leaf changes in the Boston area. It was a hit.

California poppies bloom in Lancaster, near the state natural reserve, in mid-March.

(Kayla Bartkowski / Los Angeles Times)

To create the poppy bloom predictor, Klosterman turned to AI initially developed for medical imaging. He has harnessed it to instead analyze satellite images of the Antelope Valley.

The model scans 10-by-10-meter squares of land to determine whether poppies are present by their telltale orange color. (It also identifies tiny yellow flowers called goldfields.)

The model is trained on satellite images — which go back nine years — along with past weather data.

It then uses the current forecast, and recent flower status, to peer into the future.

If the mercury is going to hit 100 degrees and wind is picking up — and in previous years that led to withering flowers — that will guide the prediction.

Right now, the model can forecast five days out and is, as Klosterman puts it, “very much a work in progress.” It would be better, more powerful, if it had 100 years to learn from.

As more data are collected, it might someday be able to forecast a week or two out.

Right now, poppies are popping at the reserve in the western Mojave Desert.

It rained throughout the fall and into winter, and poppies need at least seven inches of rain to make a good showing, said Lori Wear, an interpreter at the reserve.

Snowfall in January seems to push them to another level, but that didn’t happen this season. So it’s a good bloom, but not extraordinary, she said.

Still, poppies — California’s state flower — blanket swaths of the protected land.

“It almost looks like Cheeto dust,” she said, “like somebody had Cheetos on their fingers and just smeared it on the landscape.”

Poppies here have typically peaked around mid-April, but variable weather in recent years has made it hard to predict, she said. Klosterman believes right now is likely the zenith.

Also blooming now: goldfields, purple grape soda lupine and owl’s clover. Wear described the latter, also purple, as looking like a “short owl with little eyes looking at you and a little beak.”

An SUV drives through blooms near the reserve. “It almost looks like … somebody had Cheetos on their fingers and just smeared it on the landscape,” said Lori Wear, an interpreter at the reserve.

(Kayla Bartkowski / Los Angeles Times)

On Sunday, Klosterman experienced the blooms for himself, using his technology as a guide.

It offers predictions in two forms. The first is the amount of the valley — shown in a satellite image — covered in poppies and goldfields, expressed as a percentage. The other is an overlay of orange and yellow splotches on the land.

The map showed a fairly high concentration of poppies near a stretch of Highway 138. He went there and, lo and behold, vibrant flowers awaited him. He sent proof: a smiling selfie in front of a sea of blossoms.

Klosterman’s tool may help answer arguably more complex questions than poppy or no poppy, such as a more precise understanding of the conditions the flowers need to thrive.

Experts know rain is key, but it’s more complicated than that.

Steve Klosterman takes a selfie in a field of California poppies.

(Steve Klosterman)

Heavy rain can supercharge invasive grasses, crowding out the blooms. Natives actually tend to do better after several years of drought, once invasives not adapted to the arid climate die out. That’s what led to an epic superbloom in 2017, Joan Dudney, an assistant professor of forest ecology at UC Santa Barbara, told The Times in 2024.

Klosterman wondered if the recent heatwave would desiccate them. But his model didn’t show that, and neither did his trip. So it’s possible other factors play a significant role in their persistence, such as length of day.

The model could also shed light on what could happen to the flowers as the climate warms. Will they migrate to the north? Will there be fewer blooms?

To game that out, Klosterman said you could invent and plug in a weather forecast with higher temperatures.

For now, Klosterman’s forecast is limited to the Antelope Valley. But if it expands to other areas, and other flower types, it could help people like Karina Silva.

Silva woke up at 5 a.m. last Wednesday to travel from her Las Vegas home to Death Valley National Park, hoping to beat the heat and the crowds to the superbloom.

But several hours later, she and her husband, David, were still trying to find it.

The hillside behind her was sprinkled with desert golds, but the display fell short of the riotous eruption of flowers posted on social media. The superbloom ended in early March, according to park officials.

“I was just thinking it was going to be this explosion of different colors,” Silva said by the side of the road overlooking Badwater Basin.