As Halloween neared, we posed a chilling question to seven of our leading academics: what artwork has truly unsettled you? Their responses revealed a collection of paintings that linger in the mind long after the initial viewing – images brimming with dread, horror, and the unsettling realities of the human condition.
Antoine Wiertz’sL’Inhumation Précipitée(1854) taps into a primal fear: being buried alive. The painting depicts a cholera victim stirring within his coffin, glimpsing a skull in the gloom. A spider descends, a rat lurks nearby, and the man’s face contorts in a horrifying realization. This wasn’t mere artistic license; in 19th-century Europe, premature burial was a genuine anxiety, fueled by hasty burials and imprecise methods of confirming death.
Some, desperate to avoid this fate, even requested their arteries be cut or heads severed before interment – a chilling testament to the terror of a living grave. Wiertz’s painting doesn’t just show a nightmare; it embodies the desperate measures taken to escape one.
Artemisia Gentileschi’sJudith Murdering Holofernes(1620) possesses a raw, visceral power. The eye is immediately drawn to Holofernes’ head, still struggling as it’s severed. The scene, drawn from the Book of Judith, depicts a desperate act of courage – Judith’s attempt to save her city by assassinating the Assyrian general.
Gentileschi’s masterful use of light and shadow, combined with the stark contrast of colors, creates a claustrophobic intensity. But it’s the depiction of blood spurting from the wound, splattering Judith’s arms, and the grim determination on her face that truly transports the viewer into the heart of this brutal act.
Francisco Goya’sSaturn Devouring His Son(1820-23) is a nightmarish vision born from the turmoil of post-Napoleonic Spain. The painting depicts the Greek myth of Saturn consuming his children to prevent a prophecy of being overthrown. It’s a gruesome combination of cannibalism and filicide, rendered with unsettling intensity.
The stark black background forces the viewer to confront the dismembered corpse and the madness in Saturn’s eyes. While some interpret it as an allegory, the painting’s true power lies in its unflinching depiction of power’s callousness, the destruction of rivals, and the exploitation of the young – a chillingly relevant message even today.
Francis Bacon’sThree Studies for Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion(1944) presents fleshy, distorted figures writhing in an orange void. These creatures, simultaneously human and inhuman, possess outstretched necks and gaping mouths – snarling, screaming, sightless. Created during the final days of World War II, fueled by alcohol and despair, the triptych embodies the horrors of the era.
Intended to represent the Greek Furies – deities of vengeance – the paintings are a visceral reminder of mortality, bodily materiality, and the capacity for human cruelty. They are terrifying not for what they show, but for what they evoke within us.
Vasily Vereshchagin’sBlowing from Guns in British India(1884) depicts a brutal method of execution used against Kuka rebels in 1872. The rebels were tied to cannons and blown apart. The painting’s disturbing power lies in its detached, quasi-ethnographic framing, presenting the scene as part of a series showcasing execution methods worldwide.
The original painting was tragically lost to water damage, but a photogravure and color sketch remain, serving as a haunting reminder of colonial violence and the complex tensions surrounding its representation.
Odilon Redon’sThe Spider(1881) conjures a primal fear: a giant spider with a human face emerging from the shadows. Inspired by microscopic views of insects and fueled by decadent literature, Redon created a nightmarish creature born from his imagination. This work is part of his “Noirs” series, expressing subconscious fears and terrifying visions invisible in daylight.
These images, described by one writer as born of “sickness and delirium,” tap into a deep-seated unease, reminding us that the most terrifying monsters often reside within our own minds.
Finally, Cindy Sherman’sDisasters and Fairy Tales(1980s) utilizes Sherman’s own body as a canvas, transforming herself through makeup and prosthetics into characters from horror films and folklore. Untitled #165 (1986) depicts a hybrid creature, part-human, part-animal, lurking bashfully behind a tree. Its ambiguous nature – is it malevolent, or simply lonely? – is profoundly unsettling.
Sherman’s work suggests that these nightmarish figures aren’t external monsters, but rather reflections of our own hidden selves, the dark aspects of our psyche that we attempt to suppress.
