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Richard Phillips Hell, 2007
oil on canvas
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Mike Kelley Various, 1989 – 1995
Castrati Satan, 1995
acrylic and colored pencil on wood
Satanic Song About Purple, 2005
from ‘Day Is Done’
Satan’s Nostrils, 1989
Screenprint on silk
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Delvaux Satan Red Shoulder Bag, 1978
‘This everyday Delvaux, famously known as the ‘Satan’ is extremely spacious and comfortable to wear.’
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Aleister Nacht My Satanic Altar, 2019
‘I wish to thank you, Magus Nacht, for many insightful, helpful videos and books I’ve purchased. Being comparatively new on my Left Hand Path, I desire and hunger for Satan’s presence, interaction, knowledge, wisdom and understanding. Thank you again. ~AVE SATANAS~’
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Felicien Rops The Satanic Satan Sowing Tares, 1882
‘Although not well known to the general public, Rops was greatly respected by his peers and actively pursued and celebrated as an illustrator by the publishers, authors, and poets of his time and provided frontispieces and illustrations for Jules Barbey d’Aurevilly, Charles Baudelaire, Charles De Coster, Théophile Gautier, Joris-Karl Huysmans, Stéphane Mallarmé, Joséphin Péladan, Paul Verlaine, Voltaire, and many others.’
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Andres Serrano El Gran Cabrón, 2011
cibachrome and plexiglass
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Kim Chapiron Satan, 2005
‘Throws 90 minutes of weird Satanic stuff against the wall and sees what sticks.’
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Mikhail Vrubel The Demon’s Head, 1890
Gypsum, Paint
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Unknown Poster, 1941
‘“Satan’s mask has slipped,” says the poster, showing that Stalin is in fact the devil in disguise (remarkably with a Star of David on his forehead).’
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Johannes Segogela Satan Fresh Meat Market, 1993
Carved and painted wood, metal
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Marie Angeletti & Julien Laugier Saturnine, 2016
‘What does high school really prepare for if not learning to live with others? In this film, a party is getting ready. The opportunity for high school students to hide, to disguise themselves, to dress their daily decor with Satanic garlands. The teenagers, facing the camera within the safety of evil, remind us that Saturnine was made with them and for them.’
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Master of Catherine of Cleves Hours of Catherine of Cleves, 1440
illustrated manuscript
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Jenifer Soflous Lopped Off, 2020
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Tom Sachs Satan Ceramics, 2014
‘Satan Ceramics shape clay with a sense of irreverence, rites and ritual. Like “THE LADIES SEWING CIRCLE AND TERRORIST SOCIETY” – or, craft circles that second as clandestine political meetings – the work of the group taken as an idiosyncratic whole ties extremist functionality with subversive tendencies. Process, politics, labor, the handmade, tradition, humor, gossip, danger, historical nods and punk sensibilities are ultimately tied to the underlying collaborative strategies of integrity of the material and sincerity of the object.’
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Jeffrey Isaac Satan on the rocks, 2006
Oil on canvas
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Laura Pawela Satan, 2016
‘At the very sound of the word death, everyone is terrified and lowers their eyes in sorrow … then they dash off to share their nostalgia on Facebook, in the form of the increasingly popular necroposing. Despite their apparent respect and deep reflection, people still slow down to gape at a fresh corpse, and willingly break Internet viewing records if someone films their own suicide.’
________________
Team Nimbus Cloud Meadow, 2020
‘Equal parts farming simulator, RPG, & visual novel- Cloud Meadow is an erotic game about learning to work with monstrous allies in order to build a new home and explore uncharted lands!’
________________
Joe Coleman Devil Anse Hatfield, 1996
Acrylic on panel
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John Sturges The Satan Bug, 1965
‘Ridiculously convoluted and straight up idiotic at times – so many points where I was saying “why the fuck is this happening?” or “who the fuck is this guy now??” – but it’s pretty entertaining if you’re okay with watching 400 identical old men in brown suits talk to eachother for 2 hours. Clearly they’re going for a Bond thing with Maharis in the lead but this guy is a piece of furniture. Not nearly enough is made of “Ed Asner as psychotic henchman” for my tastes. Also the title THE SATAN BUG hints at a very different movie.’
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Michael Stamm Gay Dead Satan, 2020
Oil and acrylic on canvas wrapped panel
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Lil Nas & Nike Satan Shoes, 2021
‘Lil Nas and Nike have launched shoes called “Satan Shoes” that have real human blood in the soles of the shoes. They’re selling 666 pairs for $1,018 each. I wonder if the human blood is from the slave labor Nike has been caught using? No wonder they made these shoes.’
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Berlinde De Bruyckere Satan’s Bitch, 2016
wax, animal hair, textiles, metal and wood
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Alex Da Corte Rubber Pencil Devil, 2019
‘Alex da Corte’s Rubber Pen Devil is a series of videos of Satan and his pals, shown in a neon framed auditorium.’
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Horacio Quiroz Satan (The inner opponent), 2006
Painting, Oil on Wood
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Stephen Shanabrook Morgue Chocolates, 2006
‘These casts, made in Moscow, look like so many chocolate bonbons laid out in a sampler box, a vision of violent death rendered peaceful and consumable by the decision to make the casts in chocolate. The bonbons of the Morgue Chocolates series are the asymptomatic product of the artist’s vision of life and death in America: the remains of people who have been brutally murdered, bodies that could not be reassembled, constitute a “silent lament”. Gunshot wounds, protruding eyeballs, knife wounds stitched up with ordinary string, in his work become so many fragments of a horrible and everyday reality that hits us in the solar plexus through the precise little casts made of chocolate.’
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Entang Wiharso Chronic Satanic Privacy, 2010
installation
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Kendell Geers Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea, 1999
‘In Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea, 1999, actor Harvey Keitel, screaming in anguish, is projected simultaneously on twelve monitors, while the cables and wires entangle the monitors and are strewn across the floor. The emotional disorientation of the fractured, agonized, repetitive sound is echoed between the two components.’
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Henri-Georges Clouzot L’Enfer, 1964
‘A huge budget for a cursed film. 13 hours of film and 185 boxes of images were found and beautiful clips in color and in black and white were discovered. In 1964, Clouzot soared in cinematic art with perfection. Romy Schneider strips naked, covers her face with oil and glitter and paints her lips blue. The actress was 26 years old during filming. While she was known to the public as the innoncent Sissi who already worked with Welles, De Sissa and Visconti, she was for Clouzot, at this moment, Odette: a sensual seductress.
‘L’Enfer, is the story of a man and his wife. Just married, they start managing a small french hotel – These are the first pages of the script. It’s a banal story of a couple but the director chose to experiment a new way to process images to represent jealousy. In the 60’s, pop art and electronic music were trendy and that’s why Clouzot decided to film with a new cinematographic esthetic. Unfortunately, the movie could not be completed due to Clouzot’s health problems.’
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Ragnar Kjartansson Satan is Real, 2007
‘Inside the Faroe Islands’ Nordic House, Ragnar Kjartansson strums a guitar, buried up to his waist in the green grass of a Reykjavík park. Ragnar is bare-chested and sings, “Satan is real.” The media chooses to write ‘climate crisis’ instead of ‘climate change’ from now on.’
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p.s. Hey. Artforum and Bookforum in combo are doing this Zoom conversation series where they have a writer and a visual artist talk about …, well, whatever they want. Under those auspices, I did a conversation with the amazing video artist Ryan Trecartin — here’s my post on his work if you need a refresher — and you can watch it if you want. I think he’s a genius, so it was really great and a treat to talk with him. ** Dominick, Hi there!!!! I hated mine too, of course. Macho jerk. He was also a closeted gay guy/pedo who always stood in the locker room when we were changing in and out of our gym clothes and showering and stuff, and he always planted himself in front of the locker of this beautiful surfer-type boy so he could secretly ogle him, and I really wanted to call him out or bust him, but instead I just made sure he could tell that I knew what he was doing, and then I’d work angle that to get out of participating in the class as often as I could. There are few things better than pancakes, on that we agree. Sigh. Ha ha, I can relate to your love big time. Love finishing his multi-thousand page dissertation on this photo and it’s mindbogglingly brilliant, G. ** David, Spring means summer is coming soon, and that always depresses me a little. I haven’t yet seen the new ‘Matrix’. I want to, but I wanted to see it in a theater, and I think its run here is over, so I’ll probably watch it on a tiny screen with shitty headphones on my next long flight and see if it can handle the inappropriate circumstance or not. I’ll go find your poem. Weird that it involves you meeting with Satan since he’s meeting you again right here on my blog on this very day. I’ve never been religious so Christ is a non-interesting blank to me. I like that he has long hair, but I’m not sure about the beard. ** David Ehrenstein, Obviously, I agree with you on her vaunted status. If I run into NPH at Magic Castle I will tell him hello for you. ** _Black_Acrylic, ‘Celine and Julie’ is a very wonderful film, for sure. I’m happy you liked my chat with Ryan. I’ll go over and investigate that Rachel Maclean thing as soon as I’m outta here. Thank you, buddy. ** Jeff J, Hi, Jeff. ‘Neige’ was restored and released here recently, which is probably what occasioned me thinking of making a post about her, but I missed its short run in the theaters unfortunately. Mm, it would make sense if Re:Voir released that Kramer film, but I’m not sure. The Serge Bard film is quite curious. I’m not sure if it really works as intended, but it’s well worth giving it your shot. Yeah, I’m excited to see if I’ve picked up something over the years that solves whatever problem I had finishing those old things that I thought were failures. The Trecartin thing is the full conversation. Well, apart from some personal back and forth stuff once the official part was finis. ** Steve Erickson, I haven’t seen ‘Neige’ either. It was written about very favorably here when it was recently re-released. Apparently her second film is less successful, but I haven’t seen it either. Hm, … I don’t think my coach taught a health class. I don’t remember if there was a health class any my school. I don’t think so, or else I got out of taking it for some reason. I hope you and your new doc are on the same wavelength. Could easily be. Thanks, yeah, I’m greatly looking forward to your podcast! Everyone, Mr. Erickson was the guest on Nick DeMatteo’s podcast –well, vodcast really since you can see them — just now, and you can watch them talk about stuff, and I’m all over that and encourage you to be as well. Here. ** Okay. I decided to give the blog over to Satan or at least his representations today so tread lightly, folks. See you tomorrow.
Now available in North America 
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Satan? A Pre-Oie Harriet put it best (with an assist from Randolph Scott.
Great News! Wally Shawn is the star of Woody Allen’s latest! And in the interview at this link he defends Woody against Mia’s mendacity.
Hi!!
Shit, at least my PE teacher was only a jerk – yours was a creep. You did make the best of the situation, though. I would’ve killed for a ticket out of those classes, haha.
Seeing this photo, it’s not too hard to imagine a mindbogglingly brilliant dissertation on it – it certainly offers itself up for… speculation. Thank you! Love dropping by to give you a box of morgue chocolates and offer you any of the artworks you choose from today’s selection, Od. (I’m going for Felicien Rops’s “The Satanic Satan Sowing Tares.”)
Thanks Dennis!! yep I loves Satan!!! so thanks for this post!! the first poem I put on my fuk book page is about me meeting Jesus when I am 15… the counterpart poem of me meeting Satan happens when I am 33..
I am audaciously putting the Satan one here to tie in.. it is lenghy so you don’t have to read it… I totally don’t expect you to… merely putting your hand against the laptop screen and touching it with the palm of your hand would do! x cheers
33
The seminarian nostril enthusiastically went in for the kill, snorting at the divine spill; some priest had left the holy book, begging on his knees demanding I take a look, as I kicked it aside it blooded my sorry foot with it’s putrid hooks, so I tore it to pieces and my spirit fell, poisoned within my damp cold cell, I turned spat and cussed, I had requested no prayers, goodwill or fuss, for too many years I had been an inmate, some damned biblical number, I stopped counting some time ago as my mind fell in slumber…
I observed the cleaner as he continued to snort up the bits, dripping saliva fat at the lip, snarling muffles gruffled as he consumed and vacuumed the murdered bible, on the job ever reliable, on completion he retreated, closed the door and turned the key, I took it as a sign that I was soon to be free, the roof was pelted with fervent rain, lightning struck again and again, as thunderous sky claps screamed “the end”, I waited for the plush red curtain to descend, I slipped across the worn shabby slab, creasing as endless spasms stabbed, on the terminal block, grinding to the tick of the fall out clock, my black eyes closed and I drifted to the rain, I would never see those claustrophobic, fortified walls again, the body, misery and all of the pain remained as my core seeped and slid away, like a frivolous carved, gothic slay, over blankets of beautiful snow, towards the afterlife somewhere below…
On arriving I marked the ground with brilliant yellow urination, my brand new pelt tingled and prickled waves of radiation, slashes of luminosity raced from my feet to my incomprehensible head, dithering… shivering as the light inside turned brilliant red, struggling to sit up I focused and watched a handsome man battle amongst a troupe of ant-eating cattle, dropping handfuls of crawlies for the eager eaters, fashioning fur clad father-beaters, The figure approached and reached down to me with a strapping hand, introducing himself as Satan he smiled and helped me stand, then he delved into a brown haversack wrapped across his sheltered back, and retrieved some clothes, boots and a fine parker coat, pants, a hat, a thermal vest and a woollen scarf for my arctic throat, after dressing we walked together across the snow, on through the sleet, through the bitter blow, the anteaters followed all around creating a loving, warm surround, as we walked towards his tremendous mansion he gave them a treat of sugared lice, five towers stretched up towards the clouds entirely built from glass and ice.
On entering through the sculpted arch, slight voices whispered as we passed, through lyrical strips and metallic slats, as the fine swine rested on woven mats, a manservant removed our moist coats and hats, then two others brought hot chocolate and cakes dressed in blue silk robes, we made our way to a fire decorated with antiques from around the globe, creating heat and an interesting haze a lucid glass chimney took smoke from the dazzling blaze. We sat in the lounge on luxurious rugs and leant against Moroccan cushions, particularly comfortable although a little strange packed with curious stuffing, something advanced, animated, alive, the contents writhed like bees in a hive.
I thanked him for coming for me and for bringing me to his home, I told him how for years I had been in prison alone, we sipped and ate and warmed our blood, he nodded profusely and said that he understood.
All around, groomed statues stood of old friends and figures who he admired, individually crafted ice forms spiked with copper wire, dozens of lights sparkled, set within frozen rhombus shapes, balanced on the end of tall glass canes, reinforced with rusted chains, a translucent, hovering, flux-stream beamed depicting extraordinary, dreamlike scenes, tragic, lubed, pictorial, cubes oozed, featuring moving footage of the world’s news, we watched bombs and bullets fall across the wasteland, around soldiers doing handstands on old tin cans, little children observed on pretty red chairs, singing nursery rhymes pulling out their hair, endless zipped up corpses pulled their own body bags, moaning and groaning, broken from the drag, back in the room a toned slender man in a loincloth carried in an old black goat, I could see amongst the fur she bore a heavy scar at the throat, Satan took a golden dish and filled it with temperate milk, then the goat sat at his side and lapped at the liquid silk, on finishing, this lovely creature yawned and spoke in time to one of the features, “All the evil that men do, I’m afraid they say is down to you, earthquakes, war, terrorist behaviour, storms and murder of the saviour, carnage, cruelty, famine, spite, diseased shadows of the night, brutality, rape, malicious deeds, laziness, vanity, pride and greed, indeed when all things go to seed, when crops decay when orchards bleed, when each drop of blood falls and stains, Satan my dear friend you are named and unfairly blamed”
I could see he was the victim of an unjust game, so I bowed my sorry head in shame. In a furious temper he clicked his fingers and the liquid depictions splashed onto the icy tiles, I watched the fluid seep along, a dreamlike mixture, of photographic bile, one of the servants collected the shape shifting mess in an onyx drum and placed it on a sapphire chest. Satan asked me if I’d like to listen to some music seeming a little vexed, so I looked through his collection and made a number of requests, as he stroked the wise old goat, a fine choir of six entered the splendid room, gathered by the frosty window they sang my favourite tunes, a servant poured us sparkling wine, we ate fruit and grapes picked from premium vines, the choir were exceptional and incredibly gifted, listening and chatting our spirits lifted, on completion we cheered and made our way to a room crammed with reflective journals, It was at this point that Satan confided that he was feeling a little maternal, we spent some time digesting the text some factual some of fiction, we carefully flicked through the delicate pages and laughed at the various depictions, of him… with horns and a rake as a slithering snake, forsaken, devious, monstrous, half baked, hateful and illogical, complimentary and mythological!
He told me that he loathed those who had hurt in his name and that they were not welcome in his domain, he also said he had no time for worship and adoration, he was not the pathway to anybody’s salvation, he said that from the time of his birth he had always been at odds with the nature of god. I smiled as I waded through miles of books and I also cried, then I wiped the briny tears from my baptised eyes, as I replaced a book about disease, he told me that I was welcome to take one of his many rooms and that I could come and go as I please. I thanked him then we bathed together, waited on by servants dressed in brown polyester, I said farewell to anguish… pain and strife, while I inhaled the sweet, sweet smell of the afterlife!
You are a expecting Coops to read this! hey?
it’s a not a poem it’s a book!
Maria Isabella Camila Malaria Gabriela writes a poem!!
here is!
“I kill! kill! kill!
I did and I do still!!!
and I always will!”
Thanks Maria Brahma blah kill…. you sound like a living advert for Domestos Bleach…. no seriously go for it
A fine theme today, Dennis. Love the pieces by Horacio Quiroz and Jenifer Soflous.
Sheitan reminded me:
https://theveganreview.com/seitan-vs-satan-vegan-pronunciation/
Good to see the online chats/interviews with you and Steve. Will check out soon…
Bill
ORBITAL ‘SATAN’
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gFjKPLc5qD0
For anyone with 52 minutes to spare, sigilkore artist sellasouls offers a mixtape of his best low-fi, ASMR-rap attempts to invoke demons: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M684W3NbTQc
My doctor’s visit went fine, although I need to wait till early next week for the results of my blood test. He seems like a pleasant enough guy.
New York’s in for its first major storm tomorrow. I enjoyed walking to the doctor’s office as light snow fell this morning, but I will probably stay inside all of Saturday.
The podcast with Trecartin was very interesting. I hope you get the chance to design an amusement park, if only inside a movie, eventually.
Dennis, I’m taking your satans as an extremely good sign – I’ve been desperate for one for a while, and this is it! I particularly love those satan ceramics; so cute! I want some.