On the eleventh week of our vigil, we added the image of a detainee on a cross. The goal in doing so, for me, is multilayered: (1) Connect taxpayers to what they are funding (torture that is deliberately hidden overseas), (2) publicly remember the suffering of detainees, (3) visually highlight the presence of Christ in “the least of these” (Matthew 25:45), and (4) connect the torture of Christ at the hands of the Romans to the torture of detainees like Dilawar and Ahmed Errachidi at the hands of US troops.

This is an image which is clearly controversial, and we did not take it lightly. I personally mulled over the implications of placing a detainee on a cross in public for about a month before taking part. Initially, a couple of questions came to mind: first, is this sacrilegious? After thinking it through, I believe the answer is no, although others have suggested to me that it is. Usually the reason has been that the cross is a sacred symbol of Christianity. However, Christ was only one of thousands of men who were crucified at the hands of various government institutions. The method of his death is not what is sacred. However, some opponents have continued, we are intending to emphasize a connection directly to Jesus and not just any victim of crucifixion – so it’s still sacrilege to put someone else on the cross. But this connection is one that is not an original idea of ours, as Christ already made it Himself. I’ve plucked this from Matthew 25:31-46.

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

“The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’

“Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’

“They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’

“He will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’

“Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”

This, of course, is the same set of verses that anti-starvation organizations like Compassion International use in their advertisements – a connection which is generally accepted. I believe that Christ is present in the suffering of torture victims just as he is in the starvation of little children.

Another question that I pondered was, “Is this appropriate to do in public?” One of the first things that came to mind was how terrifying the image could be to some people, especially kids. I realized, however, that this is actually a more appropriate reaction to torture than the one that people typically have: continuing about their daily lives as if nothing is wrong. When this image breaks the pseudo-peace of the everyday, it forces people to confront reality: people have been and likely continue to be tortured by the US, and it is funded by the money and indifference of tax payers. At that point, people must make a decision to hurl profanities at us, ignore us, or do something to contribute in voicing dissatisfaction with how our tax money is used and how people are abused.

The last main question that came to mind was, “Will this win people to my side of the debate?” The answer is “probably not.” After all, as Buxtehude says, “you catch more flies with honey.” But we’ve already tried this the proper, civilized way – Kirk Brown and I wrote a presentation about two innocent torture victims and visited over a hundred churches to try to get them to let us share it. We tried to be polite, but our efforts were rejected based upon the subject matter alone at all but one church (who allowed me to present half of it) – none of the others even took us up on the offer to read it over. And lest you say that holding up signs and yelling isn’t very loving, it’s good to be reminded that some of our traditional biblical heroes did not always take the “nice and soft” mode of communication. Jesus called the Pharisees a “brood of vipers”, flipped over the moneychangers’ tables, and Stephen gave an angry speech to the authorities just before being killed. It is not always appropriate to slather people in a coat of sugary words, and in our circumstance, that now seems particularly inappropriate. So we give you this instead: a collection of photos from our eleventh weekly vigil against torture, accompanied by quotes from a book by Bill Cavanaugh which we studied as a group before beginning our vigils.

“Suddenly the silence and invisibility under which the torture apparatus operates are shattered, interrupting its power. In an astonishing ritual transformation, clandestine torture centers are revealed to the passersby for what they are, as if a veil covering the building were abruptly taken away. The complicity of other sectors of the government and society is laid bare for all to see. The entire torture system suddenly appears on a city street.” – William Cavanaugh, Torture and Eucharist.

“Torture plays on the incommunicability of pain to isolate the victim. Here, however, this isolation is overcome by the sharing of pain.” – William Cavanaugh, Torture and Eucharist

“In the man humiliated and defeated by torture we discover the Servant of Yahweh, Jesus who is crucified today, the prophet who denounces the personal and social sin of his time and ours, the Son of God dead and resurrected, present in every action which transforms History.” – William Cavanaugh, Torture and Eucharist

Kirk holds a sign that reads, “USA: Torturing Our Way to World Peace.”

“And if to some extent we share the sufferings of the tortured, He who was tortured by Roman justice and nailed on the Cross accompanies us and we for our part accompany Him, because He identifies Himself with the tortured.” – A member of the Sebastián Acevedo Movement Against Torture in Chile.

To all those who languish alone in cells in Guantánamo: we have not forgotten you. We will not forget you. Every week we publicly remember your suffering.

A new sign from Rob.

Incredibly, a few people got out of their cars, hurled dirt clods at us and called us terrorists. Other moronic comments:

“No one’s being tortured by Americans.”
“They died for your freedom, you fucking faggots!”

Golden Goblet of Venom Award:
“You’ve never done a fucking pushup in your life, faggot!”

Note: This article was originally written for Hi-Fructose Magazine. I’m republishing it here for your enjoyment.

While vacationing in a desert wasteland just south of the Valley of Grins, I found myself deliriously walking toward a cloud of pentapi. These multi-tentacled creatures evolved from the discarded heads of used dolls, a fact evidenced not only by their button eyes, but also by their aggressively vengeful attitude toward humans. Had I not been suffering from seven days’ worth of dehydration at the time, I would have known better than to joyfully embrace one. But as the pentapus wrapped its red, velvety arm around my leg, fully intending to tear it from my feeble body, I heard a man shouting from the sky. I looked up, and who should I see but Australian painter Shane Devries, floating overhead in his magical hot air balloon? Before long, he had parachuted to the ground and warded off every last threatening pentapus with his massive brush, which saved at least 30% of my limbs from being torn asunder.

“I may need a doctor,” I said to him. “But hey, while I’ve got you here, would you care to talk about your magical painting abilities?”

He nodded. The 26-year-old Devries has only been painting for three years, but has already created an impressive collection of art that transports viewers to vibrant locations and eccentric creatures. We talked about his upcoming exhibition, his work on the show Figaro Pho, and more.

Your work is full of vividly colored, bizarre, cartoon-like creatures whose relatively minimalist forms are contrasted atop heavily detailed backgrounds. What influences that combination of elements?

I really enjoy experimenting with each painting and try and make each new piece more challenging for myself as I go along – mostly so I don’t get bored, really, and so that I learn new things and move on from ideas that I feel I’ve explored enough. I think the stuff I’m working on recently is a lot more interesting and complex than the earlier stuff. I deeply admire realism and representational art, so the contrast between the simple characters and the more detailed and realistic surroundings are my way of creating flippant versions of traditional or representational art from my own world. It’s really fun because I get the thrill of learning from age old oil painting techniques, but I get to inhabit it all with bizarre mind-wandering ideas.

Whether it’s small toys or massive, button-eyed birds in teacups, there is frequently something floating in your paintings. Can you tell me about what inspires you to pump your creations full of helium?

The floating idea was more of a discipline really. Last year I was putting together a group of paintings and made a decision early on that every one would have a floating element to it. I find it helps with creativity to set some boundaries so that I get to explore different ideas rather than faff around with heaps of different ones. More often they are better this way too. I think there is something about floating and flying that’s appealing to everyone. I mean, I really wish I could fly, and I always have flying or falling dreams as most people I know do. So I think for those pieces the floating is almost like an emotion we can identify with somehow.

Along with the weightlessness of your characters, they are often found in near-complete isolation, hovering over beautiful but barren landscapes. It’s almost as though we’re getting to take a peek at a very rare creature, or a hot air balloon adventure gone awry. What draws you to create these lonesome adventurers?

(laughs) Yeah, I like to think that they are rare sightings. I think the landscapes are places I’d love to view from that perspective myself and they are inspired from everywhere – my family’s holiday pictures, places I’ve been, etcetera. The lonely creatures are just stragglers and oddballs that have been left behind. I like to imagine that there were once huge migrations of these weirdoes and these are just the ones that couldn’t keep up and wander about on their own.

Many of your paintings look like they’ve pulled straight out of the middle of a story. Do you ever invent back-stories for any of your characters?

Yeah, I like starting stories, but I try never to explain too much. I think it’s fun to let people add their own explanations and interpretations. For a recent exhibition I wrote a poem about most of the pieces and published them in a book. They never expound too much, but add a few questions and add to the fun of the art. I have my own stories, but I like to keep them to myself and let the viewer’s imagination kick in. For some of the characters I like to imagine that they sat with me for a formal portrait. I can’t think of anything more fun than getting to have a line-up of strange individuals to do formal portraits of.

I’ve noticed you’ve gotten to do some artwork for the Australian show, Figaro Pho. Can you tell us about your involvement in that project and how it differs from your usual work?

Yes, Figaro Pho is a great invention of Vishus Productions who are based here in Adelaide. I had a lot of fun helping out with a few minor bits and pieces last year and working with all the talented and brilliant creators there. I only helped with a few episodes that included a few matte paintings, and some really great family portraits that were used in the hallway of Figaro’s manor. I love animation, so to help out was a real treat. The difference of working on a production like Figaro meant that I needed to adjust my individual style and work up pieces that suited the look and feel of the show, and work using digital [media]. Luke Jurevicius and Deane Taylor gave it such a fun and light-hearted look, so it certainly wasn’t a chore.

You’ve also done some work for a couple of children’s books over the past couple of years. What was it like shifting your art to tell someone else’s story?

Kids’ books are a lot of fun, and I haven’t done a lot so far. I think it’s nice when you get a story or a project that means something to you. I try to take on stuff that I’m excited about rather than chasing big paychecks and recognition. (laughs) Sometimes I find myself seriously questioning myself, but I’ve always found it so much more rewarding to work with people I like and on projects that I think are important and downright fun. So for books, I think it’s nice to work with publishers and authors who all want the same outcome and encourage creativity above everything.

On your blog, you mention that you’ve spent a good deal of time traveling around Africa getting your head pumped full of new things to draw. How have your travels impacted your work?

Yeah, I had an amazing trip to Cambodia recently. I thought about art all the time and did a whole lot of sketches whilst there. I came back with a lot of ideas and enthusiasm, but only managed to get one of my planned paintings finished, mostly because ‘real life’ and deadlines kicked in when I got back. But hopefully I’ll get to use some of my ideas eventually. I’ve found that I plan a lot of work while I’m away but get terribly sidetracked when I get home.  (laughs) I need to discipline myself a bit more I think.

Since you began creating art, how has it changed over the years in terms of subject matter and the way you make it?

I think it’s changed, and hopefully it’s noticeable. I haven’t been painting for more than three years so I’m still exploring my ideas, abilities and loves mostly, which has meant that I work on quite a variety of different projects from time to time. But I enjoy oil painting so much and keep falling for it big-time because of its freedom and subtleties. My earlier stuff is quite bold, simple and saturated in light with ideas that are humorous and endearing. But more and more I’m enjoying the challenge of bringing in a lot more complexity and subtle emotion. As I mentioned before, I like the detail and care in representational art, so I think this will be a flavor that will creep more and more into my world.

You’ve got an exhibition coming up this December, and by the look of things on your blog, you may have abandoned floating robots in favor of furry, tentacle-armed creatures that will haunt my nightmares forever. First, how did you know that bearded fish-murderers scare the living hell out of me? And second, what else can we look forward to from your future projects?

(laughs) Yeah, he does look a bit sinister dosen’t he? There’s nothing to worry about though because the fish is still alive and the Mox is a harmless creature – possibly more scared of you than you are of him. I had so much fun working on it and I wrote a little bit about the painting.

It’s not very often that you’d happen a glance
But sighting the Mox is always by chance
Enigmatic in presence and keenly aware
You can never look past his ominous stare

It doesn’t give a lot of explaination but yes, I’m working toward a show, and there will be a couple more of these creatures around. All the paintings will give the idea of a rare and extinct species (like the Mox) and that you are viewing them as proud and noble outsiders who no longer roam the bizarre world they inhabit. It’s going to be a lot of fun! I’m not too sure what the future holds. I tend to work instinctively and I’m keen to keep evolving and inventing. Next year I’m working on another book which I’m very excited about and will keep painting for exhibitions here and interstate.

Thanks for taking the time to tell us about your work. Looking forward to your next exhibition! Now, if you wouldn’t mind putting those limbs of mine in my backpack, I’d like to see about finding that doctor.

As it turns out, the FBI didn’t want to see us.

The homes and offices of several prominent peace organizers and international solidarity activists in Minneapolis, MN, and Chicago, IL were raided September 23 by members of the FBI’s Joint Terrorism Task Force. During these raids, the FBI delivered subpoenas to eleven organizers, accused them of providing material support to foreign terrorist organizations, and ordered them to testify before a federal grand jury in Chicago on Tuesday, October 5.

The coalition organizers say that a Supreme Court decision in the recent case, Holder versus Humanitarian Law Project, opened the door to the September 23 raids by allowing the FBI to act with a broad mandate to target peace organizers and international solidarity activists who work with legitimate popular resistance movements abroad.

The FBI raids came in the wake of new revelations released last week that the FBI spent hundreds of hours spying on student and community organizations in Iowa City, Iowa that participated in direct action street protests at the 2008 Republican National Convention in St. Paul, MN.

And it comes on the heels of a report recently released by the Inspector General of the U.S. Department of Justice which found that, between 2001 and 2006, the FBI opened criminal investigations against peace and justice organizations without cause, extended those investigations with weak factual evidence, violated their own policies, and routinely mischaracterized civil disobedience as a domestic terrorist threat to national security.

Don’t ask me why, but I recently picked “The Best of Imprimus, 1972-2002” and read an essay (1983) by George Nash with a long and boring title. I had read the essay before, but for whatever reason this time I was illuminated by it.

Nash basically argues a typical Neocon line that goes something like: the combination of capitalism and Christianity are what built this country and they are what will save this country from the nihilists. At one point he asks the question, ‘is there… an inevitable declension from democratic capitalism to socialist nihilism?’ This struck me hard.

As you may guess, my mind leapt immediately to an answer: of course there is, Nash! Because capitalism is nihilistic, not democratic. He goes on to argue that pure capitalism is somewhat Epicurean, but that it’s always been tempered by the Higher Things et al. I believe here he has made an egregious error.

Capitalism has never been in league with the Things he’s talking about: Platonic sublimity, Christian morals, a simple and thoughtful and productive life. It’s been at war with them. Greed cloaked as ‘work ethic’ is still greed, and greed, a Christian ought to know, is terribly destructive. A man cannot serve two masters, don’t you know! A capitalist has one master: money. How many times have you heard someone defending a heinous corporate act on the grounds that ‘it’s not their job to coddle their employees, or their customers, it’s their job to make their shareholders a profit’? And the, can I say, blind faith by which this is supported! The power games that get played on that level are often written off as the paranoid prejudices of stupid young people, but seek and ye shall find some scary stuff.

Nash traces a hostility to capitalism that arises out of government intervention, public education, the evils of the ‘60s, etc. He condemns a generation that has embraced nihilism. How he cannot see that capitalism is to blame for this, I do not know. It’s funny to me when I hear capitalist thinkers talk as though the government and the corporations were at odds with one another. Not only are federal regulatory agencies stacked with ex-employees of companies that the agencies are supposed to be regulating, but, as this essay points out, (thanks Marky Perkins), we’ve got no reason to assume that some kind of purer capitalism would be able to regulate supply and demand on its own without government intervention because we’ve never seen it do so. This unfree market in fact needs the government; and the two grow together.

Capitalism has made our wildest material dreams come true; it’s no wonder we don’t have much use for immaterial things anymore. How are we supposed to talk about ideas after dinner if the feast never ends? There’s nothing behind it other than, I’m afraid I must in good conscience say, avarice and a sort of social gluttony. Sounds nihilistic to me. Take, for example, the glorification of money in itself. Billionaires spend their lives accruing fortunes, only to give them away. This is a prime example of making means into ends, and when taken to fanatical capitalistic proportions it is an unfortunate example of postmodernism in the bad, flat, popular, product-of-a-terrible-misunderstanding sort of way. Not surprising that we see it breed a flat, unlearned, arrogant, cynical and misunderstanding generation.

Moreover, we are in love with money, which these days, in some grand dark hilarious irony, actually is nothing! There’s nothing valuable backing our money, at least after a point (which has been passed). It’s a social practice, utterly ethereal, that could be snuffed at the slightest little catastrophe, and if that happened (as it has in the past) all the faith we have in its power to make us free will be shown to have made us all slavering and mean.

So to Nash I say: it shouldn’t surprise you that capitalism is still going strong while Christianity is guttering. Christianity is a medieval artifact, but capitalism is thoroughly modern, and American capitalists are fully willing to adapt by whatever means necessary to keep it going, at the expense of your faith (and probably our freedom too). Why defend it? What has it ever done? There were free societies before capitalism, and god willing there will be free societies after it. Greed won’t set anybody free.

If I’ve gotten your attention, it’s probably because the title of this post dredges up some kind of feeling in you, whether a fervent “Hell yeah!” or perhaps a “This guy’s an activisticy idiot” or maybe, “Shit, I want to see the firefight.”

While all of these warrant interesting discussions, I am only going to talk about one relatively obscure reason that I think the title of this note is eerily appropriate.

In the medieval period (roughly since Charlemagne, though the roots can be found in Constantine), and indeed up through the twentieth century, the Catholic church found itself allying with military powers for protection. The church has been wealthy since the age of the relics, and there have been times when it’s used its economic influence to barter military support. Often, to my understanding, a clergyman in the church could also hold, for example, a noble title, and be in service of two sets of interests at once, as it were.

Plenty of you know the church’s history far better than I do, so I’ll cut to my point. These days, there are an increasingly smaller number of corporations brokering increasingly larger portions of the wealth. One company I have in mind is Monsanto, the bio-tech corporation. (Monsanto owns the patent to the GE soybean used in roughly 90% of US soy products, and every year most soy farmers have to buy beans from Monsanto. Therefore, they are very big and very rich and very alone in the soybean market.) To avoid skipping a logic step, I’ll point out that companies like Monsanto got where they are by exercising capitalism.

The interesting thing about this particular company is the large amount of personnel that have worked for Monsanto and then worked for the USDA, FDA, and other government regulatory agencies (most darkly the ones that regulate food), and who have worked first for the government and then for the company. If ever it was to be said that a corporation was ‘in bed’ with the agencies that were supposed to be regulating it, this is it.

Many have postulated that Monsanto is an ‘evil’ corporation. I won’t deal with that here; there is plenty of literature on that point. My point is simply that capitalists have found in the government a nurturing arm of protection and the government has found people with a lot of money. It’s a natural pairing, I suppose, and one that’s been going on for millenia between, most notably, churches and states. It is an odd parallel. People postulate that capitalism is our state religion for a number of reasons: our people are slaverous and pious consumers, they think the market is going to ‘save’ them from poverty and government oppression, they think the market determines what is ‘right’ to buy, has its own set of arbitrary, immutable laws, and if only it were listened to would usher us into a new age free of tyranny and hunger. I think those are all interesting things to discuss, but I am interested in the way that companies such as Monsanto have set themselves in a relation to military power that is strikingly similar to the posture of the medieval Catholic church toward the violent powers of that day.

There would have been a time when I would have scoffed at the title of this note, but there are a lot of ways in which I believe it is kind of true: a religion of the rich, envied and hated by the poor, defended more vehemently than pretty much any western metaphysics anymore. Monsanto gives us a great example of why it is not such a stretch to say that what we have in capitalism is a state religion.

Soybeans. Photo by Helen Zhang.

Note: This piece was originally written for and published by Hi-Fructose Magazine. This version includes high-resolution versions of many of the images. Just click one to enlarge it.

Aaron Horkey’s posters are the product of multiple hand-drawn layers, each meticulously detailed with micron pens – all scanned, composited, and screenprinted to create a finished product. At his recent “Midwestern Heart” show, fans got a rare opportunity to see original ink drawings and finished color posters hanging in the same vicinity. Afterward, I was able to ask Aaron about the process of creating one of these posters from start to finish and he was kind enough to explain in thorough detail.

Can you take me through the process of designing a concert poster from start to finish? I’m particularly curious how much bearing each band’s music has on the design, and how involved you are with the screen printing process.

The music is of utmost importance – there have only been two or three instances where I was unfamiliar with a band’s output prior to working on their poster. It felt a lot more like work and the resulting prints clearly reflect this. As for the process, I’ll walk you through the Genghis Tron tour poster from 2008. The band and I had been in touch for a couple years but the timing didn’t work out for a print until late in 2007/early 2008 when they were planning a record release tour for their sophomore LP, Board Up the House. I had an opening in my schedule, the record was incredible and the band understood my “no art direction” policy, so all systems were go.

Once I start in on a rock poster I don’t listen to that particular band until the prints are signed and out the door. I feel like something’s going to be compromised if I do – some literal visual translation will occur or some such spanner will be thrown. This is where being acutely familiar with the band’s discography and outlook comes into play.

For this poster I knew going into it that I wanted to at least partially explore a merging of mechanical and organic textures to somehow mirror the music these guys create. I already had fairly fleshed out sketches of the antique microphone housing apparatus from an earlier, aborted project and thought they might mesh well with an insect of some kind. At this point I start gathering all my reference and, if photos are needed, (in this case the nail and dust covered, debris-strewn foreground) I’ll shoot and print multiple angles of whatever the project calls for. By the time I start drawing up rough comps I’ve usually already pieced the poster together in my head, turning over each aspect of the final composition again and again until I’m as familiar with its basic “ghost” as possible so it’s just a matter of stumbling through sketches until it all matches up on paper.

I typically put down 6-20 tiny, rough comps until one clicks and I’m able to build the final illustration from this loose idea. In the case of the Genghis print, the main foreground illustration and background lettering are drawn on separate plates but interact with each other on the final poster, following a basic line of movement up and away from the horizon line. Because of this I needed to draw one final refined sketch with both elements present, splitting up the lettering and illustration when it came time to transfer the art to the final paper for ink. My final pencil rough [sketches] typically include about 90% of the detail present in the finished ink work but may be only half the size. Similarly, the finished inks may be only a third or half the size of the final print, so the process from initial sketch to printed poster may involve a 500% enlargement. This is why it’s so important to ensure the composition is solid from a very early stage. It really reduces headaches – especially with a deadline looming. It usually takes a good 4-5 days to get the inked drawing somewhere approaching acceptable [quality].

Once the ink work is completed I’ll reduce it back down via Xerox and work up a color composite using watercolors, markers and gouache. This gives me a good idea of how many additional layers I’ll need to draw for highlights, shadows, etcetera, and what color of paper I’ll need to order for the prints. In this case I needed to draw two layers of highlights: a fill layer for the foreground illustration, and the “Genghis Tron” lettering that appears behind the insect. Additionally, I still had to draw the information text for the tour itself – dates, cities, flourishes – that would appear in the lower portion of the poster beneath the main illustration.

I ended up designing two separate text pieces for this poster as the first attempt was absolutely awful and really had no redeeming qualities. Once all the art is complete, everything is scanned in and assembled into a digital mock-up to ensure the various plates line up and nothing is terribly out-of-whack. Film is then output, screens are shot, and ink is mixed. I try to be present for at least part of the printing process if at all possible, either to sign off on colors or just to help rack prints, but I don’t remember being around for this one until it was time to sign the band’s copies. Ben LaFond handled printing duties on this one and absolutely nailed it as usual. The custom-mixed metallic green ink and split fountain lettering really turned out well on the dark brown stock, band was stoked and it was on to the next one.

You’ve made posters for a pretty wide range of bands. Does any of them stand out as particularly inspiring to design for?

Most all of them have been an absolute pleasure to work with. I’m very lucky to have been able to contribute something, however insignificant, to the visual histories of quite a few of my favorite bands. Isis, Andrew Bird, Converge and Boris are some of my repeat clients, all of which have inspired me for many years, well before I started working with them personally. Getting to work with Cable was a dream come true as well, I thought I’d never have the chance, but when they reformed in 2008 for a handful of shows I had to throw my hat in the ring. Two posters and an album cover later and the rest is history.

I’ve noticed that you’re also a musician under the name Jack Spaar and even released an album back in 2005. Do you continue to write and perform music?

I designed and issued the Jack Spaar record as a historical document via my 420X10 imprint but, despite rumors to the contrary, I’m not Jack. There have been a small number of unsubstantiated accounts of his continued existence but he’s presumed to have died in a mobile meth lab explosion outside Fulda, Minnesota in the early years of this century.

After years of designing for all sorts of surfaces – skateboards, clothing, shoes, belt buckles, album and magazine covers, toys – what’s been your favorite material to work on, and why?

LP covers and skateboards are tops for me. My heroes growing up all had either album art or skateboard graphics (or both) in their portfolios so naturally that was the goal.

In June, your company, Dead Arts Publishing, released the first of a series of six sets of prints depicting your black-and-white original drawings. Can you tell me a little about the series and when we’ll get to see more?

The letterpress series has been years in the making and every force in the known universe seems to be conspiring against its completion, but we are planning on announcing the contents of Suite 2 early in October of this year. The prints included in the series are 1:1 scale, 1 color letterpressed reproductions of my original drawings released in 6 sets of 3 prints each over the course of the next year or so. The prints are available individually or in lavishly packaged suites, which include an exclusive bonus print available only with purchase of the set that will not be reprinted elsewhere. Including bonus prints there will be 24 pieces total in the series: 18 standard edition pieces and 6 bonus prints. Each round of prints are available as an open edition during a specific ordering window and the edition size is determined by the amount of prints ordered during this window. Anyone interested in receiving updates and/or further information regarding the series can subscribe to the mailing list at deadartspublishing.com.

Lastly, what’s next on your slate? Any new projects we should keep an eye out for?

So much backed up on the desk, now that the show is open I can get back to work. A couple new movie posters for Mondo, a new collaborative print at the Bird Machine with Jay Ryan, portfolio exchange in conjunction with the MAPC 2010 conference in Minneapolis, letterpress bonus prints and incidentals, painting commissions, more Japan-exclusive items to be released via Mega•Fauna, some shirts, look through the Jaime Hernandez art book, mow the lawn, ride my bike, change some diapers, wash some dishes, etc.

Thanks a ton for taking the time to answer my questions! I really appreciate it, and I’m sure your other fans will as well.

Note: This piece was originally written for and published by Hi-Fructose Magazine. This is a re-run with high-resolution photo links. Just click any image to see it in much greater detail.

Near a lonely silo in Windom, Minnesota, the massive, scale-covered tail of a rare bird whips around a decaying fencepost. Its claws grip the wood as it stretches toward the moon, holding a newfound treasure up to the light. Peering out from beneath its fish-shaped, metal helmet, the beast twists the object around in its elongated beak to examine it from all angles. A skeleton dangles there. The bent remains of a creature perhaps a tenth of its captor’s size. The bird pauses, as if pondering what to do with it. But it is soon startled from this dilemma as a flock of manta rays takes flight behind the hill, soaring up past the clouds toward the stars. The bird lets out a deep croak from its frog-like throat and, satisfied with the night’s find, flaps its massive wings, departing into the dark.

Aaron Horkey’s artwork is often a combination of both beautiful and nightmarish imagery – filled with hauntingly strange creatures that emanate from within his imagination out into the natural surroundings of his hometown in rural Minnesota. There, at Windom’s Remick Gallery, Horkey recently unveiled an exhibit containing an astounding 84 pieces of artwork he’s created over the last seven years. Of those, 33 were his original ink drawings, which hung nearby their finished counterparts. This allowed the crowd to catch a rare glimpse of Horkey’s work before any colors, lettering, or other modifications were made to create the finished posters.

Along with his previous work, a brand new print entitled “Midwestern Heart” was also available. The person who guessed closest to the number of stars in the print’s vast sky without going over the actual number walked home with a free $800 print. I got the opportunity to ask Aaron a few questions about that show and get a step-by-step look at how he creates one of his posters.

First off, how many stars were on that “Midwestern Heart” print? My guess was 2,500, but I never heard what the actual amount was.

The final tally was 4,340 which is substantially higher than I would have ever guessed. Even though it took about 8 hours to draw them, I assumed there would only be a thousand or so. Credit for the official count goes to my long-suffering wife, Kim. She figured out a system so as to not lose her place while counting and knocked it out between ferrying kids to soccer practice and whipping up some incredible vegan blueberry/peach cobbler.

Can you tell us a bit about the idea behind that print and the show?

The main idea behind making the print was to have something available for folks to pick up as a memento of the exhibit since nothing in the show itself was for sale. I tried to come up with imagery that wasn’t too obviously Midwestern while still referencing the area (although, admittedly, a huge ear of corn is just about as obvious as it comes). Ladybird beetles are ubiquitous here, especially in the summer months, and the clear, star-filled sky is a definite hallmark of the rural midwestern experience. The dilapidated barn in the background was found on a gravel road outside of Mason City, Iowa and has long since returned to the soil. I’ve carried those reference photos around with me for almost a decade, wasn’t until this project that I found the right spot for her. As for the show, I mostly just wanted to gather a few things together that I wasn’t terribly embarrassed by and present them in their native environment. Most all of my reference material and inspiration for the work in the show was culled from the surrounding wilds of rural Cottonwood County and a majority of that from within a 10 mile radius of the gallery/museum. The Remick Gallery was the venue for my first solo exhibit which took place in the summer of 2003 and I wanted to present a good cross-section of my output from the seven following years. A decent amount of stuff didn’t make the cut but the space filled up fairly well regardless, definitely the highest number of pieces I’ve had in a single show.

There were rumors floating around the Internet that this would be your final show, but from what I gathered, you’ve got another one coming up late next year. Can you tell us more about that?

“Midwestern Heart” will be my last solo show for quite a while, if not for good. If I did another solo show I’d want to exhibit a series of all new paintings and drawings which would take many years to compile as well as finding the right space to present them. Really can’t see it happening what with the commercial work and parental duties absorbing most of my waking hours but the idea of a new painting show is always there, nagging at the back of my head. Never say never, I suppose. The show next year would be a group show in San Francisco, California but I’m not 100% sure it’s happening so I can’t divulge anything beyond that.

The oldest of your work at the show was a group of skateboard designs from 2004. What led you to begin working on skateboards and how did that lead to your work as a poster artist (if, in fact, it did)?

They are, for the most part, unrelated – just two avenues I always aspired to have my drawings applied to. I started skateboarding around 1992-1993 and have been obsessed ever since. Being land-locked in that era the thought never crossed my mind that I’d ever be able to contribute to the visual history of skateboarding. Then, around the turn of the century, my good friend Todd Bratrud began making headway within “the industry” and wound up eventually becoming art director at a company which essentially gave him free reign and he, in turn, let me know the door was open for submissions. Being called on to send in graphics was the most exciting/daunting thing I’d experienced up to that point. I’ll never forget opening the first box of boards I’d designed. Lackluster though they were, it was an absolute stoke. The opportunity to work on posters came a few years later and when those started catching on and finding an audience I really slowed down with the skateboard graphics. I’d love to get back into it but I’ve vowed to never have my stuff applied to a skateboard via heat transfer ever again – screenprinting only from here on out. Unfortunately almost nobody shares my sentiment as screened graphics are more expensive, time-consuming and difficult to produce and as such are only practiced by a small number of individuals in this day and age. Another dying art I’m not prepared to let go of just yet.

When you put together a show like this and look back through all your previous art, in what ways do you observe your work evolving since you began?

I’d like to think I’ve started to figure out how to draw although it’s painfully obvious I have many more miles to go before I’m able to pull off a successful picture. The lettering on a lot of those early prints is just clunky and awkward – I was still measuring widths between letters and going to great lengths to make sure drop shadows were uniform, etc. Once I started to loosen up a bit the lettering became less stilted and more interesting, to me at least. As for the evolution of the screenprints, once I had a few under my belt I started to better understand how the inks interacted with each other and what elements could be omitted from the main drawing and added onto other layers. Discovering transparent black/grey was a huge step toward somewhat believable dimensionality with shadows and such, to the point of being sometimes ridiculous and often times spending days on shadow layers barely visible in the final printed product. You can really see the evolutionary leap, for better or worse, if you compare the three Andrew Bird posters in the show. I grouped all three together on the wall and there were 3 years separating each print starting with 2003, 2006 and ending in 2009. To my eyes the most recent is the most successful but the 2003 Bird still stands as the favorite for most of my collectors. I’d like to believe it’s because it’s the hardest to come by, as it’s not a particularly strong piece, but I really can’t tell anymore.

I got to talk to your parents quite a bit at the show. They told me that you were pretty self-motivated from an early age and that you mostly trained yourself as an artist. Yet even in some of your oldest work, your designs have been markedly intricate – requiring a very close look to notice everything you’ve packed into each corner. How did you go about developing your highly-detailed style when you were younger?

As long as I can recall I’ve tried to make every square centimeter of surface area count. The entirety of my 6th grade social studies note-taking was crammed onto one college ruled notebook page, much to the chagrin of my teacher at the time. I’ve always been drawn to excessive detail – my favorite books when I was a kid were of the sort where one could get lost in each page for hours. “Who Needs Donuts?” by Mark Alan Stamaty is a perfect example. Once I got more immersed in comics it was a similar thing – Rand Holmes, Serpieri, Hewlett, Crumb, Ware, Cooper, Kerri – all my favorites really know how to fill a panel/page. That’s the sort of work I react to and that I’ve always aspired to make, horror vacui forever.

Manta rays and helmeted birds have been frequent characters in your work through the years, often found perched atop decaying machines or flying across rural landscapes. What sorts of things inspire these recurring visuals?

The rays, manta and otherwise, are there for their inherent symmetry, the birds are dogged survivors. Each has a role within a greater narrative, which each faction is slowly evolving within. I have a loose idea of where these animals are headed but I’m trying to let them find their own route for the time being.

Come back tomorrow for part two of my interview with Aaron Horkey and read a detailed walkthrough about the making of the Genghis Tron poster!

ICOSA Magazine has a four-page story about our forthcoming second book, Zakery’s Bridge in their latest issue. Check below for a few page scans, and go to their web site to check out the full article.

Today I’d like to share some images from Shrieking Tree’s forthcoming second book, Zakery’s Bridge. The book follows the same format as our previous book, collecting several stories from children under one theme. Previously we explored homelessness, and with this book we explore the lives of child refugees and immigrants. Just as with the last book, the proceeds from sales of Zakery’s Bridge will go to charity – this time to the organization called CultureAll. You can read more about the project at the web site I recently designed and read a full story in the “look inside” section. Below are some pages from four different stories that I designed. A few tweaks are left to be made, but these are very close to being finished.

Each story opens with a map and quick facts. This is the opening to the title story.

Stories feature images from many different photographers around the world.

Opening facts include common names for children, and the distance from the foreign country to Iowa.

The generosity of donating photographers makes for some stunning pages.

The story about girls from Taipei features a particularly impressive photo from photographer Daniel M. Shih.

These pages help educate readers about Buddhism.

I used distinct textures for each story’s informational columns to give them personality.

I wrote the headings at the beginning and throughout each story to lend it a handcrafted feel.

(Note: This article was written for and originally posted at the Hi-Fructose magazine web site. This version of the article has links to additional high-resolution images so you can see the fine details of Aaron’s work. More details to come.)

In the tiny town of Windom, Minnesota, poster artist Aaron Horkey unveiled an exhibit containing 84 pieces of artwork he’s created from 2004-2010, including a brand new print pictured here. About 275 people packed a small room at the Remick Gallery, some traveling great distances, including a few who flew in from Japan. Beside many of the finished color poster prints, about 33 original drawings hung, allowing viewers to see Horkey’s work before any colors, lettering, or other modifications were made.

The limited edition print was available in two versions – a lighter-hued set of 100 that sold for $80 each, and a darker version, limited to six, which sold for $800 each. The dark version included tons of additional object details added by Horkey with colored pencil, which he noted took him about eight hours per poster. Visitors were invited to take a guess at the number of stars in the print’s vast sky, and whoever guessed closest without going over the actual number was promised one of the six dark prints for free.

Contrary to rumors, the show will not be Horkey’s final display (there’s more to come next year), but it is likely to be the last chance to see some of his original work in the midwest. Horkey’s work is amazingly detailed, and the chance to see his work up close revealed gobs of additional details that you simply can’t pick out in low-res images online. We hope to have an expanded report up later, but enjoy these photos from the show for now!

This image is a separate, 21-color screenprint entitled Nesting.