Marcel's Art: Man Eater

This is one of Marcel's more colorful creations, and with this deliciously deadly theme, that makes the painting oh-so-much-more disturbing.

***Before you continue reading, make sure you click on the photo of the painting to enlarge it and take a closer look - you don't want to miss the little details.***

A flood, or tidal wave, of bright blue water is sweeping people off of a hued cliff, straight into the sticky grips of giant, flesh-eating plants. At first, it's hard for me to think of this scene as a tragedy. The bright, rainbow colors of the plants and the tiny stick-figures somehow make me think of gummy bears....yum! The whole painting is like a person, with the water as a hand, tossing a handful of treats into the mouth (plants).

Sure, there are people stuck to giant plants, but the colors make me think of innocent childhood toys - like yellow rubber duckies - and my fear is forgotten.

Then I take a closer look at the bottom of the painting and I get a little nauseous when I notice the blood. Some of the falling people missed the plants to land skewered on ominous black stakes protruding from the ground...no colors here, except for the blood that lets you know they really are dead.

When I look up at the plants again, the red looks suspiciously like blood. The thought that that red is not a part of the plant - but is actually blood streaming from the people stuck in the plants - chases away any illusions of lollipops and cotton candy I may have had. I had thought these people had a chance to escape still, and that if there are man-eating plants, they would work slowly - because they have no teeth, you see, only digestive juices. The suddenness of the realization that this might not be the case gives me the creeps, but then I notice that there are people hanging from the flower, stuck to the red - so it is a part of the flower, and not a shower of blood. Whew!! What a roller coaster ride.

As an afterthought I realize that of course the red is the flower: A flesh-eating plant wouldn't let all that blood go to waste - it would want to collect it and drink it down.

TIME OUT FOR A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: There are many plants in the world that eat meat. Most are found in wet areas, where water carries away many of the nutrients plants need to grow, so they have adapted to find other ways to get their minerals. But don't worry, none of them are big enough to eat you. Actually, you are way more dangerous to carnivorous plants than they are to you. Wetland areas (which also act as natural water filters) are quickly being destroyed by human development, and the popularity of some of these plants means that the species have been decimated to answer to that demand.

In Man Eater we see water and plants working together to defeat a common enemy.

Hmm, maybe the painting should have been titled 'Revenge of the Wetlands'.

...or possibly 'Candyland Mountain'...?!

If you have any better ideas, let me know.

Also, we've got a special treat today, a word from Marcel himself. He requested I make the following addition to the description of Into The Void in the last post:

"The winged entities are also suffering, for they were meant to be together but can't (much like in the movie HANCOCK). They are blind so they can't see each other; they have grown talons so they can't touch each other; and their vocal chords produce nothing but gurgles and screeches. Enraged by their unfulfilled love, they take it out on the un-demonized souls. :)"

...in case you were wondering.

Marcel's Art: INTO THE VOID

This painting by Marcel was commissioned by a friend of mine, Sammie Sleevi. If I recall correctly, she wanted something bleak, composed of black and white (to match her decor), and a fair amount of morbidity. Marcel's answer was the world depicted here in Into The Void.

At first glance, maybe you think the winged creature hovering in the foreground is some kind of angel. After all, like most depictions of angels it has human limbs and proportions, plus the necessary wings. But if this was ever an angel, at this point is has long since fallen from grace. Its wings are tar-smeared black and waft the sickly-smell of what's left of its decomposing body into the air. Chunks of flesh are missing to expose a rib, an entire pelvis. It's face is a mask of indistinguishable features, and its fingers have warped into long talons.

The creature puts those talons to good use: for this is hell, and the small amounts of red Marcel allowed himself to place in the painting (if you can find them) must surely be human blood.

Somewhere in the dirty-white void of nothingness that is these creatures' domain, there is a deep dark pit. A massive tree grows on its precipice, it's roots burrowing deep into the the sides of the hole. How deep it is- what goes on inside- nobody knows. But it must be much worse than what awaits the humans on the surface, for they keep trying to climb out, scaling the tree's roots in a futile attempt to escape. The humans scuttle out of the hole, hoping to sneak past the creatures and reach the nothingness beyond, because surely that must be better than what they endure on the inside.

But the creatures will have none of that - no one has ever escaped. They are efficient guardians, and nobody gets past. Their massive wings carry them in circles around the hole, and if any human manages to reach the top, within moments he or she will be airborne, seeing the talons they have been impaled with and and are being carried on before they actually notice the pain - it all happens so fast.

Then they are tossed back into the hole whence they came from, screaming, falling - who knows how far.

Or, if the creatures are so inclined, they feast on the bodies, wrapping any bloody remains in cocoons of tar and feathers that keep them preserved and hanging in the tree for later. Leftovers. A snack.

But that's not all...for if this is hell, then the humans are already dead and cannot die a second time. They remain conscious, wrapped up and immobile in a tree. With every passing brush of wings, with every hint of airborne decay that passes their nostrils, they fear that their time on the surface is over. For as much as they don't like being eaten (who would?), it is nothing compared with the terror they must face deep within the hole. Only something so terrible it is beyond our imagination could send them up to the surface and certain capture, welcoming the angelic embrace of the void's dark creatures.

Marcel's Art: Opus palladianum

You're looking at the only one of Marcel's paintings with this mosaic-like quality (although I would like him to pursue it further - so far that has not happened).

People have seem many different images in the geometric patterns of Robot Hump Mountain - so I think it's best if I just let Marcel hint at the theme he was illustrating and let you come to your own conclusions. Here it is in a poem, straight from Marcel to you:

"The petals of the sun curl as their last drop of moisture is obliterated,
by the very heat they live to create, this heat of friction,
of massive stony protrusions moving, rubbing, living.
And as the leaves attempt to cradle the other, more intrude upon their space, leaving no room for privacy, no room for being!"

**As for the painting's title, I'd like to think that there's a clue in there as well. But that's not how I see it, and if you know Marcel, you know it's equally likely that it's just a trick to throw you off.

More sketches

Why is that fish smoking a cigarette? Any ideas?

Nibblers

Random drawings Marcel whipped up while bored at work:





Hmmm, the things I scribble while bored on the phone at work are nothing like this...

I'm always particularly drawn to a good wing rendering. Have you looked at the real wings of a big bird up close before? They're magnificent. I've got an African Gray around that likes to mimic body movements - if it's feeling friendly. If I stretch out my arms over my head, it'll show off its impressive wings in return, stretching them out wide, one side at a time. Seeing the mechanics and details of these instruments of flight up close has made a lasting impression on me. If you don't know what I'm talking about, check out this example (scroll down through the photos when you get there):

Colorado Red-Tailed Hawk

Most of the drawings I come upon that include winged humans lack the impressive quality real wings of flight have. Mainly, it has to do with the fact that they aren't believable: (Setting aside the fact that humans/humanoids don't have wings) they are usually much too small and frail looking (especially on the fairies) and are almost always barely attached to the back - so that even if they do look big and strong enough to take flight, they would break off under the pressure of trying to lift a body up with them. Marcel's drawing shows wings firmly attached, and each is about as long as the body - er, skeleton - is tall. Admittedly, they are in tatters, putting into question their actual ability to lift off....but hey, it IS a skeleton, it's supposed to be falling apart and is already animated by some kind of magic in itself. You may say this is what gives all the fairies and other puny-winged creatures the ability to fly as well, and I can't argue with that logic. But if you're going to add wings, don't just sprinkle them on. They're WINGS - they give the ability to FLY! They should look impressive (not just cute) - I mean, unless you were going for the impotent look.

Marcel's Art: SEAHORSE

Finally!
Thanks to Picture4Ever we have some professional shots of Marcel's artwork available (instead of relying on the ones I took, seen in the slideshow below, plagued with discoloration and glare). Over the next few weeks we'll explore each particular painting, up close and personal.
First up: Seahorse Bowl
In a previous post I mentioned that Marcel doesn't aim to infuse his paintings with a lot of his personal feelings.
Yet emotions do have a way of leaking through, sometimes in the most obvius way.
Check out the painting above - does that look like a red fist in the center of the abstract creation?
It is.
There's so much to say about this particular technique. Fisting, as I believe it is called, originated in the 1960s, when soluble artist quality acrylic paints became commercially available. Since then, the technique has evolved to include a number of paint application processes that use any portion of the body in leiu of a paintbrush or another tool. The most popular method in recent times, by far, is full body application.
What do you think of how the technique was used here?
- It's honest (the painting, not what I just wrote).
- It's raw.
- It's organic.
Frustrated artist indeed.
The original Seahorse Bowl is now available for purchase on Ebay!!! Please search for a Malinowski original :)

First Batch - Fresh From the Oven