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Erotic Art

By: Eric623



The submittal deadline for the annual erotic art show loomed near. The time had come to set the landscapes aside and get this year's "fun " project started. I had been kicking this idea around in my mind for some time now… It began several years ago when I adopted my first Akita dog. Since then, my interest in Japanese art and culture had grown. One lonely night while surfing the web I came across a site devoted to shibari, the art of Japanese Bondage. The precise, intricate rope work restraining the girl's limbs immediately caught my attention. Yes, this was the year to quit recycling the nudes from that still life course I took years ago.

When we first met, I knew you would be the perfect model. I'm not sure what it was, but something about you compelled me to ask about posing for my project. It must have been your radiant smile and the way your eyes twinkled while looking at me. At first, you seemed hesitant, but after a tour of the studio and seeing my work, you warmed up to the idea of posing. We made an appointment for the next day. I rushed around town finding suitable rope. All the hardware stores stocked hard, abrasive nylon line. Finally, I found some soft, cotton cord, just the right diameter, at a fabric store of all places. Then it was off to the art supply store for fresh drawing materials. I couldn't sleep that night, mulling over the infinite possibilities of poses. You arrived the next day, right on time. I showed you to a changing area, and made last minute adjustments to my supplies. You came into the studio wearing a black silk kimono loosely tied around the waist. We discussed the various poses I wanted to try. We would start the session tying you to an antique wooden chair.

You slipped out of the kimono and sat down. Seeing you naked for the first time took my breath away. I took a length of rope, passed it around your left ankle twice and tied it off with two half hitches. I then wrapped the rope in a spiral up your leg and past the knees. I looped the rope around your thighs twice and continued the spiral wrap back down to your ankles. Then I passed it around your right ankle twice, tied it off and cut the excess. I stepped back to examine the results. The ropes holding your legs together formed a diamond pattern. After a slight adjustment to even the spacing, it was time to continue. I passed a second, longer piece of rope around your neck until the ends came together, like lacing a shoe. I twisted the ends together into a braid, being careful not to choke you. I continued twisting the rope down past your cleavage to your belly button. I then passed each end around the back of the chair twice and continued up the back of the chair to a point just below your breasts. 

As I wrapped the rope under your breasts and under the braid, the back of my hand brushed against a nipple. A soft sigh escaped from your lips when I brought the other end of the rope around in the same fashion. I slipped the rope around the back of the chair, and around the top of your breasts just above the areola. With each pass of the rope, I would lightly rub one nipple or the other. Eventually I tied the ropes behind the chair. As I reached around to take your hands, you guided them across your breasts and over the hard nipples. You let out a long, deep sigh when I tied your wrists together behind the chair. I stepped back and adjusted the lights to accentuate the cast shadows and bring form to your graceful body. I got the sketch pad, and started with several quick gesture studies. I found one angle that worked best, and began a more thorough drawing. While filling in the details I couldn't help but notice the shadows cast by your erect nipples. The form and lines worked well, definite possibilities, but I wanted to try other poses. After a few quick adjustments to the drawing, I untied the ropes and handed you the kimono. You got a cup of coffee and stretched your legs while I set up for the next drawing.

The second pose I planned for you was to stand with your arms stretched overhead, tied to the ceiling. The twisted braid, positioned down your chest looked so erotic in the seated pose, so I decided to use it again. With each movement of my hands, I brushed against you soft skin, and could feel the beating of your heart. This time I did not stop at your belly button, but continued further down. Soon my fingers brushed through your pubic hair, twisting the ropes together. Anticipating my next move, you relaxed your legs giving me room to pass the rope between them. I walked behind you to pick up the ends of the ropes. My God! Your ass is perfect! I brought the ropes up so each strand bisected a butt cheek and then around your waist. I noticed that the ropes were crossed between your legs. I could feel the heat radiating from your sex as I fiddled with the ropes, being careful not to pull your pubic hair. I just had to run my finger along your pussy lips. 

You let out a soft moan as my finger continued up the crack of your ass before picking up the rope. I decided on a slight variation from the previous pose, and wrapped the lines in a spiral up your midriff forming a diamond pattern. Once again, I passed the ropes under your breasts several times. With every wrap, I gently lifted each breast so the rope could slip under. I could feel your body shiver with every caress. After a few loops across the top of your breasts, I tied the ropes off behind your back. Taking another piece of rope, I bound your wrists together, climbed up on the chair and tied your arms to a light rail on the ceiling. With your arms stretched out above, your breasts were so inviting. I set the chair aside, leaned over and gave each nipple a long wet kiss. All that remained was to tie your ankles together with a couple of quick wraps. I straighten my back after tying the last knot, and found myself staring at your pussy. I slipped my finger between your legs and found your clit. With each light stroke, your nub stiffened. I kissed your belly button, then I kissed each patch of skin not covered by a rope until my lips found your nipples. Your cries of pleasure were getting louder, "Yessss….yessss….yessss!!" However, I was supposed to be drawing. So I gave each nipple one last kiss and reluctantly pulled my finger ever so slowly from your hard clit. "I've got to sketch."

"Please...don't...stop."

I stepped back and slowly walked around. You were so sensuous, so beautiful with your arms tied overhead. I found the perfect view for the next drawing. My HB pencil flew over the paper capturing the flow of your outstretched body, and the fullness of your breasts. I sketched the shadows, paying particular attention to the indention created by the ropes. I wasn't quite happy with the details of the twisted ropes though. I moved in close to carefully study the patterns. Your pussy, outlined by the cords, looked so inviting. I could see droplets of dew clinging to your pubic hair. I dropped the sketch pad and pencil, leaned forward and kissed it. I took a deep breath and inhaled the sweet smell of your excited sex. My cock, which had relaxed while drawing, jumped back to life. I grabbed your butt and pressed my face into your pussy. My tongue strained to find your clit once more. You pulled against the ropes, and I could feel your body shake. A soft cry escaped from your lips. "Ohhhhh…..yesssss!!" I let go of your ass and slowly ran my hands up your body, feeling the ropes along the way. My fingers continued up past the wraps and found your soft breasts. My tongue remained glued to your clit as I caressed your hard nipples. I had to finish drawing the details of that braided rope. I pinched your nipples just a little, and picked up my pad and pencil.

"Nooooo..."

A few minutes later the drawing was finished. I took the sheets and tacked them to the studio wall. Not bad, I thought, these will definitely work. I wanted to try one more pose. I walked over to you, intending to undo the knots. As I stood before you, our eyes closed, and our lips inched closer and closer till they met. With our lips locked, I slowly slid my hands over your breasts and nipples. With the lightest touch, my fingers traveled down your chest and around your waist. I squeezed your butt as our tongues slipped together. I pressed your pussy against the bulge in my jeans. I could feel the moist heat of your sex through the brushed denim. One hand slid around your hips and between your legs. I couldn't believe how hard your clit had grown. The instant my fingers grazed against the bud, you raised up on your tip toes. I continued to explore your pussy with my finger, feeling the swollen lips. You began to shake and broke off the kiss. I held your butt with one hand, and rubbed your clit a litter faster. Your heavy breathing transformed into soft moans and then into cries of pleasure. 

"Ohhhhh…….Ohhhhh…….Ohhhhh!!" I just stared at you, your head was tilted back, eyes closed and your mouth slightly open moaning. I had never seen a more erotic sight. Our lips met once more in a deep kiss. I kept caressing your ass and rubbing your clit. The next orgasm came quickly as did the one after that. After the third climax, you tried to pull away. However, with your hands tied , you weren't going anywhere. I held your butt, bent over and started licking your pussy. You let out a deep, continuous moan when my tongue met your clit, and a steady stream of your juices flowed out over my chin. In one manner or another, all my senses experienced your beautiful pussy. Your swollen labia looked like an exotic tropical flower, and smelled as sweet. I kept licking your clit until the moans subsided and all I could hear was your labored breathing. I stood up, took your head in my hands and kissed you for what seemed forever. Finally, our lips separated, and I began to untie the ropes. I handed you the kimono and went over to study the drawings. The standing pose was screaming out ,"paint me, paint me!" My thoughts of visualizing colors were broken when you came up behind and wrapped your arms around my waist. "You know that you are the perfect model don't you?" I asked. You kissed my neck and then my ear lobes. You softly whispered, "I want you inside me."

"You up for one more pose?"

I felt your tongue on my ear, "I guess." I held your hands, and we shuffled across the studio still hugging. We made it to the sofa, giggling all the way. I pulled the sofa pillows and threw them on the floor. I turned around and slipped the kimono off your shoulders. You laid down on the pillows while I got two pieces of rope. I knelt down, leaned over and kissed you, "Roll over Honey." I wrapped one rope around your leg at mid thigh, tied it off, and did the same with your other leg. I crawled around behind you, reached under your chest and pulled your butt up. I tied your calves to your thighs, forcing you to lay with your ass in the air, exposed. Your pussy, still wet and swollen, peeked out between your thighs. I slowly ran my finger up and down your slit. I got the wooden chair, sat down and began undressing. My cock, standing straight out swayed back and forth as I walked over to you. I came up behind you, draped my body over you and caressed your breasts. You ground your butt against my dick. I pulled your hair back, kissed your neck and whispered, "You are so beautiful." 

I backed away, crouched down and kissed your pussy, slipping my tongue inside. "Please I want you." I took my finger, soaking with your juices and gently rubbed it around your butt hole. "Ohhhh!!" Very slowly, I worked my finger in to the first knuckle. I rose up so my cock was seated between your pussy lips. As I leaned forward, my penis slid inside. As I slowly penetrated, the heat of your pussy seared my dick. Finally my balls came to rest on your butt, and I slowly pushed my finger deeper into your ass. "Yessssssss!! I stayed still for a moment before beginning the familiar in and out rhythm. With each outward stroke, I could feel your pussy gripping my shaft. Over and over, I plunged deep, savoring the warmth of your sex. My balls tightened against my groin, and every muscle I have contracted. "Oh Honey!!"

"Cum for me sweetie, cum for me now!"

I thrust my cock as deep as I possibly could and a torrent of semen erupted into your pussy. "Ahhhhhhh!!" I pushed deeper still for the second release. When every drop of cum had been spent, I withdrew my finger from your butt and wrapped my arms around your waist. I leaned against your back and kissed your neck as our juices dripped onto the pillows. We remained that way for a long while, catching our breath. I untied the ropes and put the pillows back. We collapsed onto the sofa and crashed in each other's arms. I was rudely awakened the next morning by a wet nose poking my face. My Akita dog, Kimo stood there, wagging his tail, demanding breakfast. I got the big idiot his food and made us a cup of Earl Grey tea.

Over the course of the next few weeks, the blank sheet of Winder and Newton 140lb. Cold press watercolor paper came to life. A dab of permanent rose mixed with yellow ochre matched your skin perfectly. Washes of burnt sienna and vermilion gave shape and form to your figure. For the shadows, I used phthalo blue with a touch (and I do mean a touch) of alizarin crimson.

Finally the big night arrived. We wandered through the gallery, sipping red wine from plastic cups, enjoying all the work at the opening party. The painting of you standing, tied to the ceiling created a great deal of interest. I had several generous offers in spite of the "not for sale" sign. The crowds at these affairs were always interesting; lots of unusual piercing, fishnet stockings and leather abounded. As always, belly dancers and drag queens kept the natives entertained. We went out to the patio seeking relief from the pressing crowd. There in a quiet corner we fell into each other's arms. I just stood there and gazed onto your lovely face. "What?" you asked.

"I just want to thank you so much for this wonderful gift you have given me."

Erotic Art Review



In art, immorality cannot exist. Art is always sacred. -- August Rodin.

Some art, while it may not be better than other art, is more interesting--and more entertaining--that's for sure. It may also be instructive at times, but erotic art, if ever there was a form of art that deserves the term, is, first and foremost, exemplary of art for art's sake, providing, as it so often does, sex for sex's sake. It has no other defense than its own existence--and needs none. This essay reviews works of some of the masters--and mistresses--of the genre, considering both illustrations and paintings. The artists named herein are veritable treasure troves of erotica that is guaranteed to wet one's pussy or harden one's cock. Isn't that what erotic art's all about, when all is said and done?

Paul Avril

Paul's paintings are realistic, depicting tall, thin women with smallish bosoms. The men--and, sometimes, satyrs--are of average build, their erections being only a little larger, usually, than average size. Most of his couples are heterosexual, but there are a few homosexual couples, too, all of whom, regardless of sex and gender, typically fuck amid the splendors of ancient Egyptian, Grecian, or Roman palaces, sometimes while a servant or another party observes, either with interest or indifferently.

Paul depicts both vaginal and anal intercourse in a matter-of-fact way, and, occasionally, he includes cunnilingus and fellatio, flagellation, or lesbian activities. Group sex is also featured, rather frequently, usually between two women and a man, but also between a woman and two men.

Paul's men are as lithe and smooth as his women, and their buttocks, although firmer and more compact than those of his female figures, are splendid and arousing to the eye. Although his figures seem to enjoy themselves, they do so in a quiet, way, and in as dignified a manner as such behavior allows, always without shame. Indeed, they sometimes look a bit bored and jaded. Those who are not occupied with a partner may masturbate or not; if they do, they do so with the same attitude and in the same manner as those who fornicate before them.

Marquis Franz von Bayros

Franz's style is delicate and understated, despite its great attention to detail, both of foreground and background elements. Executing his drawings in pen and ink, with an occasional assist from the brush, he illustrates upper class men and women engaged in the favorite pastime of all classes.

His women typically wear elaborate hairstyles, large hats, and gorgeous gowns, replete with ruffles and lace, over full petticoats, sometimes with their breasts bared in full display. The women wear silk or satin slippers.

Franz's world is full of beauty and elegance, with large vases, full of flowers; musical instruments; well-stocked vanities; and fountains as frequent furnishings. Franz pays attention to every detail; one can count each of the hundreds of leaves on a single tree, see every petal on every rose--and every minute thorn on every stem--just as one can all but feel the folds and pleats and creases in his ladies' gowns and underwear. Because of Franz's devotion to particulars, the viewer is ever in danger of missing the erotic bauble or knickknack tucked away, as it were, in a niche or carved into a panel or the side or base of a fountain. The curios and other ornaments that decorate tabletops and shelves often feature a sexual display of some sort or a set of male or female genitals. Penises, winged, with legs, on rings, or flanked by labia, decorate many of his palaces and apartments, enriching the beauty and the magnificence of the artist's work.

Female masturbation is a frequent motif in Franz's drawings, but his illustrations also depict bestiality, lesbian lovemaking, sexual training sessions, and other themes that outraged the public of his day, leading to his exile from his native Germany in 1911.

Paul Emile Becat

Paul's style is deceptively simple, making much of simple lines. His figures are neither willowy nor thin; they are of the same sort of nearly skeletal emaciation that is currently popular both in Hollywood and on fashion runways, his female figures, always tending toward boyishness of frame, with small breasts, rather more angular than curvaceous. Nevertheless, Paul's women are sexy--somehow--both to the males whom he draws and to the viewer, who cannot help but to be enchanted by his fairy-like women. Although sex per se is often absent from his work, situations suggest that it either has already occurred or will follow soon upon the depicted scene.

Antoine Borel

There is a classic look to Antoine's drawings. His figures are neither slight nor large, being more or less of average height and weight, with the women wide of hip and fundament, but small of breast. The men tend to have rather feminine faces, and their hair is often curly, although some are bearded. Their bodies are firm, without being unduly muscular, and their penises are longer, if not thicker, than average. Sex tends to be vaginal.

Occasionally, positions are unusual, to say the least. In one drawing, a woman, holding a dowel that extends from wither side of the hub of a small wheel, her calves resting along her lover's chest and shoulders, with him supporting her thighs, makes of herself a wheelbarrow of sorts, more vertical than horizontal, while the male fucks her, pushing pushes her along, at the same time, that she might enjoy two rides, as it were, at once.

In another picture, a supple young woman, her back and hips resting upon a large pillow in the center of a circular rug, her knees against the fronts of her masculine lover's thighs, her calves below his upper legs, and her feet extended into space, has rolled herself into a tight ball that is only a little larger than the pillow, with only her elbows and her lower legs, bent, failing to find support. Her lover crouches over her, his cock unseen but obviously impaling her cunt as he goes about the task at hand, intent with ardor.

Such cramped positions, Antoine suggests, make sex both more compelling and more difficult. His couples often couple in the presence of an infant which may or may not be belong to both of them, thereby associating sex with procreation, a rather rare theme in most erotic art.

Agostino Carrscci

Agostino's women look like men. Like Michelangelo, Agostino could not paint a feminine figure; instead, he seems to castrate male personae and to append female breasts to their chests. The sexes are otherwise nearly indistinguishable, except for the women's hair, which, although not much, if any, longer than the male's, is swept up in swirls atop their heads; the women's build, which is of slightly smaller proportions than those of the males' physiques; and the women's fat-to-muscle ratios, which, in general, favor feminine fat over masculine muscle. Agostino's women's build is closest to today's female body builder than to any other contemporary feminine body type.

Nevertheless, some men find such figures attractive; apparently, the homosexual Michelangelo did, and, apparently, so did Agostino. Who knows? You may also like a little man in your woman. If so, Agostino should not disappoint. In his drawings, sex is straightforward, without any hanky panky (and, one suspects, little or no foreplay), all practical and procreative, purposefulness outweighing even the thought of playfulness.

Achille Deveria

Achille's women are fleshly, without being corpulent. Their buttocks are firm, but they are not compact; instead, they might better be characterized as being somewhat square and muscular. The breasts of Achille's women's are small, but firm, of the sort that is called to mind when one compares them to apples, and are capped with nipples the size of dainty buttons. The women sport thick pubic "beards," through which, for the purposes of cunnilingus or intercourse, the unremarkable labia may, as it were, be allowed to peek. When they are not naked, the female figures dress well, in the aristocratic fashion of their day, in velvet or satin gowns, necklaces, bracelets, knee-high stockings (which are always white), and fashionable shoes that seem snug upon their narrow feet.

They may participate with others of their sex and a single man in sexual games. In one illustration, a blindfolded man, cock erect, pursues a dame. Another lady evades him, while a third grasps for his erection. In other scenes, women are ravished by soldiers, and the women often appear to cuckold their elderly spouses. Sex, for Achille's characters, is always heterosexual in nature, but it may include cunnilingus as well as vaginal intercourse.

His men are fit and handsome, in a nondescript sort of way, and one little notices one of them unless he happens to be erect.

Gil Javier

Born in Uruguay, Gil's illustrations are as erotic for their subject matter as they are for the modern, realistic way in which he portrays his characters. His art frequently features demons resembling men, but for the horns on their heads; long, thick tails that end in arrowhead-like structures; and unusually long, thick penises. Some paintings include odd-looking, elongated canines resembling greyhounds, but with longer necks and heads, or feline creatures with equally stretched necks and skulls. Perhaps witches' familiars or demons in animal forms, they take an interest in the demonic-human sexual shenanigans, sometimes licking an erect penis or an anus.

Most of the sex that Gil depicts is orgiastic in nature. Heterosexual activities outweigh homosexual, but all types are represented in his work. Indeed, in one picture, female figures exclusively pleasure one another, forming a giant circle, or daisy ring, in which each licks the clitoris of the next, as one of the women lies upon her back, servicing the lady who kneels before her while the kneeling woman is serviced by the another, half-sitting and half-lying woman, behind her. A male figure, cock erect and looking ecstatic, is in the center of this circle of flesh, but he neither masturbates nor is touched by the women, all of whom appear oblivious of his presence. In the complement to the lesbian group scene, another painting shows a group of men servicing one another manually, orally, and anally. No women are present; even the couple that couples in the background is male, engaged in anal intercourse.

Several of Gil's paintings and drawings include animals, as indicated. In addition to the strange dogs and cats, a snake is present (looped about the waist of a naked man, it heads into a woman's vagina), and lions appear amid orgies, as non-participants--at least at the moment that the scene was captured, as it were, for posterity's sake. The demons themselves, with snake-like tails and the horns of goats or rams, also embody some animalistic elements. The presence of these animals either directly demonstrates or suggests bestiality is also among the demonic and human participants' repertoire of sexual deviancies, adding to the pictures' general debauchery.

There are plenty other erotic artists worthy of mention, so keep an eye out for additional essays in this series.



Erotic Art Review Pt. 02



In art, immorality cannot exist. Art is always sacred. -- August Rodin.

Some art, while it may not be better than other art, is more interesting--and more entertaining--that's for sure. It may also be instructive at times, but erotic art, if ever there was a form of art that deserves the term, is, first and foremost, exemplary of art for art's sake, providing, as it so often does, sex for sex's sake. It has no other defense than its own existence--and needs none. This essay reviews works of some of the masters--and mistresses--of the genre, considering both illustrations and paintings. The artists named herein are veritable treasure troves of erotica that is guaranteed to wet one's pussy or harden one's cock. Isn't that what erotic art's all about, when all is said and done?

George Grosz

George's paintings are of women (and men) of the World War II era, and many of his works are satirical of Nazism and its dehumanization and abuses of people, Jewish and otherwise. His women wear the hair and makeup styles that were common to the time, and their pubes are hirsute, by today's standards, quite bushy and unkempt.

In one such portrait, a woman of approaching middle age, in good shape for her years, is seated upon a couch that is draped in a white sheet. Her right arm is draped over the back of the couch, and her left arm hangs along her side. Her breasts have begun to pay the toll that gravity has extracted from them over the years, so that they sag slightly, and her stomach, although not overly thick, shows that she has enjoyed many good meals in her time.

Her cunt is lost beneath a tangle of luxuriant pubic hair, and her legs are parted, as, even while she is nude, she is seated more in the manner of a man than in the fashion of a female, quite unperturbed by any concerns with false modesty. A brunette, whose hair, both above and below, is of matching hues, she wears an interesting bouffant--a sort of half-helmet, combed up in front and on either side, and her face, somewhere between handsome and beautiful, is rouged, her rather thin lips well delineated by the too-bright red that was fashionable in her day.

Another painting by the same artist shows a woman dressed--or, rather, half-dressed, in the manner of a flapper. Attired in a flapper's hat--the type that has no brim and pulls down, rather like a bathing cap, on all sides--she also wears a half slip falling to her hips; a pair of panties at half-mast, as it were, or mid-thigh; purple stockings, without garters or garter belt, that rise to just above her knees; and a pair of black pumps upon her dainty feet. A skirt is altogether missing. She half-grasps, half-caresses a gargantuan penis, fully erect, and longer than her forearm, while she looks toward the viewer, rather than at the organ that she is, presumably, about to service orally, as if she is distracted by someone else, unseen by the viewer-cum-voyeur. Perhaps another sex partner has just arrived or she is receiving instructions from someone who is, for whatever purpose, directing her activity.

The mystery of her momentary disregard for the penis she is about to fellate adds interest to an already interesting picture, which suggests George's facility for painting engaging scenes. Also interesting is the fact that the rest of the man's physique--or the rest of it that George bothers to depict--lower belly, thighs, and some portions of his calves--is only faintly represented, having been executed in a muted wash, rather than in the detail and full development with which he has executes the woman. The indistinct manner in which the man's lower body is conveyed makes him seem to be a ghostly figure whose penis alone is as real, as it were, and as concrete in its fleshliness, as the female figure.

By his employment of this technique, George focuses the viewer's attention on the same object--the man's erection--upon which the woman would normally be focused--except that she is looking away from the organ that she only half (and half-heartedly?) holds. The viewer is more aware of, and more attentive to, the rigid member than the fellatrix herself! The suggestion is that, in observing the act that is about to commence, the viewer has already more completely indulged in it him- or herself than has the painting's subject.

Another interesting painting is one which shows a young brunette of beautiful countenance, wearing nothing more than a flimsy top that she has pulled above her splendid breasts. One hand is behind her head, resting atop its dark curls, and the other arm dangles beside her. Her hips jut forward slightly, adding emphasis to the three gigantic cocks that, each erect, jut from her lower abdomen, her pubes, and below, where, had she any, her scrotum would normally appear. The top penis rears upward, the middle one is nearly horizontal, and the lower one points slightly downward.

The penises' size is reduced at every level, the top being the most gigantic and the bottom the least so, although it is still larger than average in size. The top penis is also circumcised, while the bottom one is not. The penis between these two members is also not circumcised, but its glans is half exposed inside its foreskin, unlike the glans of the bottom organ, which is entirely hidden within its prepuce.

A similar, but simpler, picture shows a beautiful woman wearing a pair of high-heeled shoes, a necklace, and a simple, but fashionable dress, which she has lifted above her hips and holds back with her hands to exhibit the erect, circumcised penis, of respectable dimensions, that juts from her groin; instead of testicles within a scrotum, the cleft of her vagina is seen between her legs. Others of George's paintings also depict similar hermaphroditic figures.

In George's paintings, sex includes vaginal intercourse; fellatio; group encounters between two women and a man; lesbian cunnilingus; masturbation; and saddled women, equipped with tails, playing the role of ponies. Nearly always, men are shown with oversize penises, the tips of which drip, on occasion, with semen.

Namio Harukawa

Many of Namio's drawings are black and white, but some feature one or two items that are rendered in color. The articles that receive such treatment stand out, sometimes in a startling manner: pink robes, pink arm patches, pink or red blouses, blue tops, red sashes or ribbons, or leopard skin-patterned boots. However, they frequently have nothing to do with the sex that her work displays. Presumably, they are included to add variety to the pictures, all of which have but one theme--female dominance over men--and almost all of which feature forced cunnilingus.

Namio's females tend to be large. Always of the Caucasian persuasion, they are usually Rubenesque, or "thick," to use a term popular in today's vernacular for overweight, but well-proportioned women with good muscle tone. They have big breasts, solid abdomens, wide hips, bulky (but smooth and firm, rather than saggy or wrinkled) buttocks, and thick, powerful thighs. Their faces are typically thin in comparison to their bodies, and all of them are beautiful in a classic sense. Usually, they appear alone with a single man, but, on occasion, they may be paired, each with a man of her own.

The men in Namio's pictures are much smaller than the women, and they all perform the same function, providing oral satisfaction to the hefty heifers who are their mistresses. Whether shown from the woman's front or rear, the miniature men are typically reduced to a relatively small head, the mouth and chin of which are lost to view, between the woman's thighs or buttocks, as he services her orally. Indeed, he is reduced to being nothing more than a parasite, whose purpose is but to perform constant and continuous cunnilingus upon his host--or hostess--often while, as if to add insult to injury by dismissing his negligible importance even further, she goes about the business at hand, smoking a cigarette, applying lipstick, fanning herself, enjoying a cocktail, reading a magazine, or having her hair done by her stylist.

In some of Namio's paintings, the men are even further dismissed, one having lost his head entirely, as it were, by having inserted it to his shoulders inside his mistress' vagina! Another picture shows a small male figure seated, Indian fashion, on the floor, his back to the wall, while his mistress, a lovely whale of a woman, thrusts her formidable backside into his face, burying his nose, mouth and chin between the huge, meaty globes of her vast derriere.

In one of the more preposterous paintings--there are several which stretch the viewer's credulity beyond sustainable limits, but are erotic, nevertheless--and one of the few that does not depict face sitting per se, or cunnilingus, shows a voluptuous, good-looking brunette in a black-and-red-striped top lying astride a hammock comprised of a reed-thin, naked man whose ankles and wrists are tied to ropes, the other ends of which are secured to branches of trees which are not themselves shown in the picture. In having bound and suspended him in such a manner, she has converted him into a hammock for her use and enjoyment, and she reclines upon him as she reads a book, clasping his red face between her mighty calves. Her bulk, beautiful as it may be, is substantial, and his face shows the strain and misery of the load he bears.

Takato Yamamoto ("Jito")

Jito's art, a refinement of the Ukiyo-e Pop style, is known as Heisei Esthiticism. It combines well-executed pen-and-ink line drawings with a delicate use of water colors to create vibrant, elegant portraits of young Japanese women, who, as often as not, wear tattoos if nothing else, although they may be draped in open kimonos of skirts of lush, rich colors.

Many of Jito's paintings depict bondage themes. His women are usually tied with ropes and gagged with cloths. They may be suspended upon the ground and secured to posts or wooden stakes; frequently, they are suspended--painfully--from bamboo poles. The reason for their punishment is seldom revealed. Often, the intricate manner in which the victims are tied is itself the means of causing their pain and suffering. One woman, tattooed down her left side--shoulder, triceps, biceps, ribcage, hop, buttock, and upper thigh--with green stripes and intermittent floral bouquets, lies upon her right side, upon a coarse straw mat, a noose around her neck tied, at the other end, around the ankles of her bent legs, to prevent her from extending her lower limbs, while her arms are bent behind her back, where they are tied together, preventing her from extending her upper limbs as well. Additional rope secures her to a wooden post, preventing her from rolling anywhere and so even further restricting her movement. Only her head and neck are free. She stretches her neck, perhaps because it is the only portion of her anatomy that she can move. The features of her lovely face exhibit her misery and pain.

In another of Jito's paintings, another beautiful young Japanese woman lies flat upon her back, atop a short-legged table that has been turned upside down. Her spine is thus kept perpetually straight atop the rigid, flat surface, which provides no cushion to its vertebrae nor to her hips except that of her costume--skirts and a kimono, which are spread beneath her back and hips. Rope secures her wrists and ankles to the table's legs, keeping her arms bent at the elbows and her legs bent at the knees. Her back and neck, her upper arms, and her hips are supported by the underside of the tabletop upon which she lies, but her head and feet are draped, as it were, over the hard edges of this surface, adding to her misery. The tattoo that decorates her right side consists of black stripes interspersed with green leaves, orange blossoms, and foaming seas.

In some cases, the ropes can be tightened to increase the victim's pain and to further restrict her movement.

Some of the women are suspended from bamboo poles that run between their arms, which are pinned and tied behind their backs. Their legs may be bent at the knees and held backward by ropes, with one knee hoisted over the same poles, or their legs may be suspended from a separate set of ropes and hang independent of the poles.

One painting shows a victim bent over a thick log, over which she is tied, with her upper body and head dangling over a large wooden bucket filled with water. Her arms are folded behind her back and tied in place, and her only means of preventing herself from drowning is to keep her head aloft, for, if she relaxes the muscles in her neck for more than a few minutes, at most, with head immersed in the bucket of water, she will no longer be able to breathe. Her back and the upper portions of her splendid bottom are decorated with the tattoo of a long, serpentine dragon.

In a few of Jito's works, the women's tormentors are also shown. In one painting, a man raises the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a muscular arm, as if preparing to strike the woman who is suspended by her arms and legs to a bamboo pole. The picture does not show him committing any violence upon the helpless victim. However, the suggestion that he is about to do so, and that, consequently, she is about to receive a brutal beating, seems clear enough to warrant the viewer's drawing of such an inference. In another painting, no tormentor is present, but a knife, the point of its blade stuck into the ground, within a foot or two of the head of the woman who lies bound beside the weapon, suggests that the blade may soon be used upon her in some grisly fashion; that it has not yet been so employed is clear by the absence of blood and the relatively untroubled expression on her lovely, serene countenance. 

Sex, as such, seldom occurs in any of Jito's paintings; by and large, his work suggests that sex has nothing to do with the activities that are typically and traditionally associated with such sport, whether fellatio or cunnilingus, anal or vaginal intercourse, or even masturbation; instead, his paintings suggest, sex is violence, just as pain is pleasure and dominance is power.

Plenty of other erotic artists are worthy of mention, so keep an eye out for additional essays in this series.



Erotic Art Review Pt. 03







Erotic Art Review Pt. 04



In art, immorality cannot exist.  Art is always sacred.  -- August Rodin.

Some art, while it may not be better than other art, is more interesting--and more entertaining--that's for sure.  It may also be instructive at times, but erotic art, if ever there was a form of art that deserves the term, is, first and foremost, exemplary of art for art's sake, providing, as it so often does, sex for sex's sake.  It has no other defense than its own existence--and needs none.  This essay reviews works of some of the masters--and mistresses--of the genre, considering both illustrations and paintings.  The artists named herein are veritable treasure troves of erotica that is guaranteed to wet one's pussy or harden one's cock.  Isn't that what erotic art's all about, when all is said and done?

Luis Royo

World-famous fantasy artist Luis Royo has a good deal of erotic art in the corpus of his work.  A fine artist who executes his paintings in oils and acrylics, Luis is celebrated for the excellence of his exquisite work, in which his nudes, males and female, are not only so lifelike that they appear as if they could literally step off the canvases they occupy, but are also unfailingly beautiful or handsome, with flawless skin and golden complexions.

In one, a lovely young brunette, seated upon a stool, part of her dress a makeshift silk cushion, with her thighs well spread and her heavy white skirts lifted about her waist, and wearing, otherwise, only a pair of matching white silk stockings and ballerina slippers, exhibits the charm of her vagina--or, rather, the tiny cleft of it, decorated with a slender sliver, as it were, of brown pubic hair.  The flesh of her exposed midriff, groin, and upper thighs is as soft as the silk garments she wears, and there is a directness in her coy gaze that seems to invite the viewer to enjoy a still more intimate acquaintance with her than his or her mere gaze can establish.

Several of Luis' paintings suggest bestiality, but with the beast an otherworldly, rather than a terrestrial, specimen.  In one such painting, a platinum blonde, young, beautiful, and firm of body, sits astride a fantastic beast, whose head, lolling backward, shows a hideously misshapen skull, the jaws of which are lined with long, jagged teeth.  Its shoulders are broad, and the muscles of its upper arms are thick with bulging muscles.  Its lower arms are lost in darkness, as is all else but the creature's massive chest.  It lies in the "V" formed by the top of a massive stone wall that has collapsed under the coupling couple.  Behind them, tendrils and arches of foliage resembling Spanish moss suggest a swamp, and, on either side of the woman kneeling, with a leg on each side of the supine monster, human skulls rest where they've tumbled toward the lovers, presumably as a result of the wall's collapse.

She is attired only in gloves, ringed fetters, armbands about her upper biceps, a ringed collar, looped earrings, and a ringed belt, all of which appear to be made of black leather. Her eyes are closed, as if in passion, while her arms, bent at the elbows, are raised, and her fists are clenched, whether in ecstasy or triumph.

Is she celebrating her victory over the monster which lies dead beneath her?  Is she fornicating with its corpse?  Is the beast not dead, as it appears to be, but in the throes of orgasm, instead?  The green fluid that streams down the wall under the monster's back could be its blood, which suggests, if not death, severe injury, endorsing the interpretation that, in fact, it is dead, which further implies necrophilia, if the blonde is fornicating with the monster rather than merely exalting over her having killed it.  The meaning of the moment is as much in the mind of the viewer as it is in the painting, for Luis leaves the significance of the rather ambiguous picture he has created open to interpretation.

In another painting, a brunette, lovely, as all of Luis' women are lovely, stands before a hulking brute, two pairs of horns--one curved, the other straight--jutting from its conical head, as it stares with a fierce predator's gaze at the viewer, its drooling mouth open to disclose needle-sharp teeth.

It embraces the woman, its sharp claws leaving bleeding indentations in her right side and left thigh.  Nevertheless, her countenance betrays no pain; instead, serenely, she stares at the viewer with as direct, if not as menacing, a gaze as that of her bestial lover's glare, even as the monster, clutching her, breaks her skin and salivates profusely upon her left triceps.  She is bare-breasted, with full, firm, high, round breasts and well-delineated areolas and nipples, wearing only a breechcloth made of an animal's pelt and a series of strips of leather or cloth around her arms, between and over her breasts, and around her neck.

Behind her, portions of the monster's anatomy can be seen.  Besides the huge head, the summit of its hunched back, most of its enormously powerful arms, and a portion of its burly upper right thigh are seen, as is the shaggy, matted fur that covers its entire body, face included.  In its menacing, feral glare, its threatening stance, and the way that it holds its beloved, the monster conveys his total ownership of the woman, and his determination to keep his prize at any cost.  She is not a captive, however; her own demeanor and serene facial expression make it clear that she is agreeable to her possession by such a powerful and bestial creature as the one who's claimed her.

Actually, another painting is extremely similar to this one, with the same sort of monster, but with a narrower face, lost in shadow, who sports huge wings.  It stands behind the female figure, drooling upon her shoulder as it exposes needle-sharp teeth, and clutches her, thigh and pubes, in its powerful, long-clawed hands.  The woman is a bit younger than her counterpart in the other painting, with longer hair, in tight auburn curls.  A possession of her monster, this woman wears the same serene, expression, content in her being so possessed as her counterpart, in the other picture, wears.

Several of Luis' paintings indicate that angels--or, at least, human figures equipped with wings--are as excited by lust as are human males and are not in the least hesitant about availing themselves of the charms of mortal women.  One such creature is shown, as he rests upon a ledge in the cliff he climbs, slightly below a brunette who, resting upon the same ledge, before him, wears a shirt and stockings, but neither shoes, panties, nor shirt, so that her buttocks are fully exposed and available as her companion, pressing his face into her derriere, kisses the sleek flesh of one of her full buttocks.

Another painting of this kind makes it clear that there are female angelic creatures as well as males in Luis' fantasy worlds, for one of them presses a male of her kind against a stone floor, mounting him, her own massive wings unfurled in a cascade of sparkling sunlight.  He lies, head back, wings stretched at his sides, focused only upon the ecstasy to which her actions have brought him.

A set of four paintings depicts a petite, slender blonde, standing in a lake or pool of water that rises to the middle of her thigh, showing, panel by successive panel, her kneeling before the huge, humanoid monster that stands before her, to fellate him.  As she descends, his large hands leave her hips, the right to fall to his side, the left first to caress her cheek before holding the side of her head.  As she begins to service him orally, his other hand also falls to his side, and he becomes passive in his enjoyment of her activity.

It is rare that Luis shows one of the penises, erect or flaccid, of his monsters, but in one illustration, the naked creature's member, which is flaccid, is included.  The member is as long--or slightly longer, in fact--than the forearm of the woman who walks, fully clothed--another rarity in a Luis painting--beside him, the top of her head coming to the level of his waist.  His organ is also as thick, or thicker, than her lower arm.  Although it seems likely that penis length among monsters would vary as much as it does among humans or animals, the length of this monster's organ suggests, at least, that, whether long or short by monsters' standards, a penis is likely to be, by human standards, monstrous, indeed.

Other of Luis' paintings show nubile young women fornicating with dragons, maritime monsters, demons, insect-like creatures, and some monsters that exist nowhere else but on the canvases and in the imagination of Luis himself.  A few of his works also depict lesbian sex between beautiful young women--and a few even dare to feature heterosexual lovemaking between human beings!

Aubrey Beardsley

Aubrey is so famous as to need no introduction.  Dead at age 26, a victim of tuberculosis, the highly literate Aubrey aspired, for a brief period, following the publication of his Tit Bits, to a literary career.  However, he soon returned to his art, illustrating such literary works as Aristophanes' Lysistrata and Oscar Wilde's Salome.  A practitioner of the art nouveau style, he is known, especially, for his inclusion, among his male figures, of enormous genitals.

Four of the paintings which feature such gargantuan genitals (all illustrations of Lysistrata) are The Lacedaemonain Ambassadors, The Examination of the Herald, Lysistrata Shielding Her Coynte, and Cinesias Entreating Myrrhina to Coition.  To enjoy these illustrations, one should be familiar with the literary work, whether Lysistrata or Salome, that they decorate, for they are visual explications, as it were, of the puns, dialogue, or other text of these dramas.

The Lacedaemonain Ambassadors shows three men, the youngest and tallest of whom walks in the middle, flanked, on the left, by a turbaned old dwarf and, on the right, by another man, older than himself, who has a rectangular body and a face like that of a satyr.  Their body hair--the dwarf has only pubic hair; the tall youth has both hairy armpits and pubic hair; and the satyr-like man has hair under his arms, on his chest, and on his groin--resembles clusters of grapes.

A tall, ridiculous feather rises from the dwarf's turban to a height nearly as tall as his own, the youth has a coiffure that is as full and luxuriant as it is tall, and the satyr-like man has relatively short locks which somehow manage to look oily and unclean.  The men are all naked, except for the feathered turban that the dwarf sports and the boots that his fellow ambassadors, but not he, wear, and each of them sports an enormous erection, complete with gargantuan testicles.  The dwarf's penis is the largest of the three men's, the glans as big as his head and rising to the height of his cranium.  The youth's is also extraordinarily long, but slender, rising to just below his hairless chest.  The satyr-like man's penis is somewhere between the extremes of his companions' members, thicker than the youth's, but not as substantial as the dwarf's, and rising only midway between his navel and his chest.

The text that occasioned Aubrey's illustration of The Lacedaemonain Ambassadors reads:

CHORUS
Here come the Spartan envoys with long, worried beards.
Hail, Spartans how do you fare?
Did anything new arise?

SPARTANS
No Need for a clutter o'words. Do ye see our condition?

CHORUS
The situation swells to greater tension.
Something will explode soon!

The sexual puns are obvious, as is their inspiration for Aubrey's ambassadors and their enormous phalli.

The Examination of the Herald is equally witty in its verbal expression of one of the scenes in Aristophanes' ribald comedy.  The herald is examined by an old man in a dark robe, open down the front to reveal a relatively small and flaccid penis.  By contrast, the virile young herald sports a gargantuan erection, its shaft as thick as his thigh and its glans as large as his head, with testicles the size of cantaloupes.  Standing with feet planted wide, a serene look upon his face, the young man rests his hands against his upper thighs, instead of upon his hips, with his robe lifted over his penis to permit the old man's examination.  As the examiner, who is one of his town's magistrates, bends near to the youth's glans, fingering the crown of the herald's member, this exchange of dialogue, in the play, would be taking place on stage:

MAGISTRATE
Are you a man or a Priapus?

HERALD
Don't be stupid! I am a herald, of course, I swear I am, and I come from Sparta about making peace.

MAGISTRATE
But look, you are hiding a lance under your clothes, surely.

HERALD
No, nothing of the sort.

MAGISTRATE
Then why do you turn away like that, and hold your cloak out from your body? Have you got swellings in the groin from your journey?

HERALD
By the twin brethren! the man's an old maniac.

MAGISTRATE
But you've got an erection! You lewd fellow! 

In Lysistrata Shielding Her Coynte, which may have been the frontispiece of the volume containing Aristophanes' play, the protagonist, bare-breasted and wearing a flowing gown and a highly elaborate cloak, stands beside a herm (that is, a statue, often of Priapus--but, in this case, of a satyr--usually complete only from the middle of the thighs or the waist up, and without arms, but with erect penis included).  She rests her left hand, which holds a laurel leaf, symbolic of peace, upon the summit of the glans of an enormous, disembodied erection, complete with a flowing mane of pubic hair.  Her right hand is positioned over her sex, to protect her vaginal area  ("coynte" is an archaic term for the vagina), an act which alludes to the play's plot, which has the women of Greece agree to withhold their sexual favors from their husbands until such time as the men, who are currently engaged against Sparta in the Peloponnesian War, agree to a treaty of peace with their adversaries.  Lysistrata's name itself, loosely translated, means "she who disbands armies."

The title of another illustration in the series, Cinesias Entreating Myrrhina to Coition, is self-explanatory, referring to Myrrhina's husband's attempt to persuade his wife to give in to his desire for sex, despite her pact with Lysistrata and the other women of Greece not to do so until their men have established peace with the Spartans.  In this drawing, only the absurdly large feather of his headdress; an elegant, ruffled sleeve, through which his arm thrusts, its hand grasping Myrrhina's richly embroidered, tasseled robe and snatching it backward, to expose her breasts, belly, pubes, left thigh, and left calf, which wears a dark stocking and is wound with rosebuds; and his massive erection, reared in irrepressible lust, are visible, at the left edge of the illustration, while all of Myrrhina's fleeing figure is seen as she dashes toward the picture's right border, her right hand to her breast, as if scandalized by the mere suggestion that she should break such a grave and solemn vow.  The text that occasioned this drawing is dialogue, spoken by Cinesias:

A wicked thing, as I repeat.
O Zeus, O Zeus,
Canst Thou not suddenly let loose
Some twirling hurricane to tear
Her flapping up along the air
And drop her, when she's whirled around,
Here to the ground
Neatly impaled upon the stake
That's ready upright for her sake

Knowing the plot of the play and significant dialogue enhances the viewer's understanding and appreciation of Aubrey's drawings, although, to be sure, they are entertaining in their own right, showing the folly--and the humanity--of their subjects whose actions make them absurd, if familiar, figures not altogether unlike ourselves, at times, at least.

Plenty of other erotic artists are worthy of mention, so keep an eye out for additional essays in this series. 



Erotic Artists: Naming Names



Literotica Editor's Note: though the text of this article doesn't meet our 750+ word requirement, we as art enthusiasts thought this list may be of interest to readers.

*

This isn't an article, an essay, or a review, really (so the editorial powers that be may quash it), but, if they don't, it will serve its purpose, which is to alert Literotica readers of names of artists and photographers whose work contains erotic or nude work that is well worth viewing and maybe even saving to one's hard drive or to one or more--probably more--compact discs, for personal (and private) use only, of course.  Much of this work is copyrighted, but that doesn't mean you cannot access and save it.  Just don't distribute it--at least not without the creator's permission.

Some of this art is gay, lesbian, or bisexual; some involves sadomasochism or BDSM; some is transsexual or transgender; much is heterosexual; a bit includes bestiality; many are simply beautiful or handsome nudes; and many other varieties.  In viewing these drawings and paintings, one might keep before him or her August Rodin's maxim, "In art, immortality cannot exist.  Art is always sacred."

Anyway, here's the list of names, in no particular order:

Monica Majoli
Marlene McCarty
Richard Kern
Gustave Courbet
William Adolphe Bouguereau
Francois Boucher
Jean-August Dominique Ingres
Adolf Ziegler
Mel Ramos
Lynda Bengalis
Yasumasa Morimura
Vanessa Beecroft
Louise Bourgeois
Francesco Clemente
Chuck Close
Gregory Crewdson
John Currin
Sante D'Orazio
Anh Duong
Keith Edmeir and Farrah Fawcett
Tracey Emin
Eric Fischl
Nan Goldin
David LaChapelle
Inez van Lamsweerde and Vinoodh Matadin
Malerie Marder
Takashi Murakami
Annie Leibovitz
Damian Loeb
Sally Mann
Julian Opie
Rankin
Thomas Ruff
Jenny Saville
Cindy Sherman
Kiki (or Kike) Smith
Jock Sturges
Sam Taylor-Wood
Tom Wesselmann
Lisa Yuskavage
Makoto Aida
Claudia Alessandri
William Bailey
Marc Baptiste
Tina Barney
Bo Bartlett
Alvin Booth
Don Brown
Renee Cox
Philip Pearlstein
Graydon Parrish
Leonard Nimoy
Peter Lindbergh
Nina Levy
Kinke Kooi
Nadav Grannan
Judy Fox
Katherine Doyle
Patricia Cronin
Carlo Maria Mariani
Richard Phillips
Lisa Yuskavage
Su-en Wong
Leonor Fini
Duane Michaels
Francesco Goya
Giulio Romano
Maria Alquilar
Paul Avril
Franz von Bayros
Paul Emile Becat
Mahlon Blaine
Antoine Borel
Agostino Carracci
Salvador Dali
Rene Magritte
Achille Deveria
Javier Gil
George Grosz
Yoshifumi Hayashi
Jito
Heinrich Lossow
Andre Masson
Georges Pichard
Felicien Rops
Luis Royo
Gerda Wegener
Egon Schiele
Erich Von Gotha
Mihaly Zichy
Hans Baldung
Aubrey Beardsley
Hans Bellmer
Mark Blanton
Uwe Bremer
Erica Chappuis
Eugene Delacroix and Theodore Gericault
Albert Dubout
Peter Fendi
Yarek Godfrey
Namio Harukawa
Antuna Horacio
Louis Icart
Katharina Kranichfeld
Martin van Maele
Marquis de Panasewicz
Pablo Picasso
Guilio Pipi
Thomas Rowlandson
Aslan Alain
Suzanne Ballivet
Tomi Ungerer
Balthus
Jack Flesher
Julian Mandel
Roy Stuart
Andrey Slastyonoff
H. R. Giger
Tom of Finland
Etienne
Frank Frazetta
Boris Vallejo
Julie Bell
Dorian Cleavenger
Clayde Caldwell
Wally Wood
Wojtek Siudmak
Herman Smorenburg
Amano Yashitaka
Howard David Johnson
Brian Froud
Ernst Fuchs
Bruno di Majo
Frank Kortan
Michael Fuchs
Eli Tiunine
Katharina Kranichfeld
Edward Black Kim
Istvan Sandorfi
Arian
Guo Beiping
Michael Bergt
Charles Billich
Aaron Board
Brasling
John Brockington
Alexey Buryak
Antonio Cazorla
Bolan Chen
Nicolai Chystiakov
Viviane Cisinski
Ray Coia
Kamille Corry
Mile Davidovic
Kristine Diehl
Virgin Elliott
John Enright
Carl Frieseke
Istvan Gal Gene
Daniel Graves
Fred Hatt
Andre Hembert
Marie Heumesser
Philip Hollawell
Jill Hooper
Ted Seth Jacobs
Kelyne
Marianna Korol
L'Arche
Patric Le Flohic
Steven Levin
Bryce Cameron Liston
Jian Lu
Andrzej Malinowski
Brian McCarthy
Robert McGinnis
Paul Milosevich
Terje Adler Moerk
Alyssa Monks
Brad Noble
Ignacio Diaz Olano
Stanlavs Penrhyn
Yves Plateau
S. Quinsac
Anthony Ryder
Don Seegmiller
Nelson Shanks
Timothy Stotz
George Ward
Mauro Yrigoyen
Guan Zeju
Spencer Tunick
Miguel Avataneo
Jeff Barson
Gary Benfield
Tate Bernard
Marnix Bleeckere
Giovanni Boldini
Guy Brauns
Paul Brown
Laila Carlsen
Bernard Charoy
Pascal Chove
Jose Manuel Ciria
Robert Coane
J. Corno
Markus Csaba
Daniel Diaz
David Diener
Enjolras
Gigino Falconi
Jeffrey Gold
Adrian Gottleib
Randy Groden
Les Hayes
Michael Henry
Ed Hicks
Susan Hing-Sammons
Maureen Hyde
Joaquin
Savijay Kumar
Michael Lasoff
Frolo Leonne
Ben Long
Bill Mack
Richard Maury
Can McCurry
Levy-Dhurmer
Anke Meier
Kozo Mio
Rables Munos
Peter Nixon
Evan Oberholster
Anna Paik
Daeni Pino
Djordje Prudnikoff
Tomasz Rut
Serpieri
Soan
Janet Treby
Richard Young
Roman Zaslonov
Shawn Zents
Nelson Shanks
Lara Adams
Rolf Armstrong
Joyce Ballantyne
Enoch Bolles
Olivia de Berardinis
Al Brule
Ernest Chiriaka
Edward D'Ancona
Gil Elvgren
Harry Ekman
Peter Driben
Jules Erbit
Fisher Harrison
Jack Henslee
John Kacere
Jennifer Janesko
Greg Hildebrandt
Bill Layne
Jerry von Lind
Bill Medcalf
Susan Meunier
Earl Moran
Zoe Mozert
George Petty
Pearl Frush
K. O. Munson
Bill Randall
Edward Runci
Xavier Sarger
Hajime Sorayama
T. N. Thompson
Fritz Willis
Billy de Vorss
Alberto Vargas
Ted Withers
George Quintana
Charles Dana Gibson
Paul Chabas
Haddon Sundblom
Earl MacPherson
Patrick Nagel
Odd Nerdrum
Hieronymus Bosch
David Ligare
Jeff Koons
Agostino Arrivabene
Jean Claude Claeys
Karl Persson
Martin Elder
Vera Donskaja
Audrey Kawasaki
Walter Girotto
Jean-Marie Poumeyro
Will Kissmer
Kizimecca
Terry Rodgers
Deborah Poynton
Robert Dale Williams
Michael Hussar
David Nicholson
Eiichi Yamamoto
Gustav Dore
Henry Darger
Christopher Leach
Petter Hegre