Boris Vallejo

I have another book about BV's art, titled Dreams: The Art Of Boris Vallejo, which of course is great. But this one has him talking frankly and beautifully about the various creative processes / mindsets that he uses to achieve his famous end results. (For example, the cover art for the film Heavy Metal.) He documents his work thoroughly from start to finish: There are many photos of models posing in "rough sketch" poses, which BV invariably ends up modifying en route to his final designs. show more It's fascinating to compare the initial black & white photos of (well-muscled) men and women in bare studios with the evocative, vibrantly-colored final illustrations. The section on how he gets his warm skin tones is especially worth reading. In short, as an artist myself, I bought this as sort of a kitschy joke, but ended up being mesmerized. And I think anyone else will be too. show less

I paged through this and really should have known from the cover that nothing good would come of it. I really had hoped we were over female warriors being required to wear chain-mail bikinis but apparently I was wrong. Yes, there is skill in these paintings, but why the world needed a book objectifying women to a horrendous degree and giving fantasy art a bad name, I will never know.

Boris Vallejo is a name and style I was aware of through nerd osmosis, though Julie Bell was not someone I was consciously aware of previously, more's the pity.

Vallejo is...Vallejo, the Fabio romance cover artist 'for the lads'. Undeniable skills with a seeming obsession with one perspective on the 'perfect physical form' and a fantasy icon. I don't have a nostalgic connection to him and I am of the feminine persuasion, so perhaps I feel less kindly towards him than others. His talent and show more imagination are spoiled for me by the lasciviousness of his male gaze and the his focus on masculine fantasy, both in the bodybuilder demigods he models his men after, and the swimsuit models he bases his women on. His scenery, monsters, and sci-fi elements are wonderful, but these are few and far between.

Julie Bell on the other hand has a little of Vallejo's propensity for swimsuit models, but tempers the male gaze with her own vision. You can see her style and portrayal of women evolve and it is beautiful to see. The depth and range of her work is something else with all manner of striking and affecting scenes that, in the same way fantasy stories have evolved, contain so much more than muscle-bound and scantily-clad power fantasies. I am truly glad to have discovered her.

A number of pages were sadly torn from the library edition, so the only collaborative work I can be sure of was a science fantasy floating pyramid piece that was truly spectacular. It says they only worked together on four pieces. I would very much like to see the test and wish they had done more.

A fascinating book, but honestly I could have just done with a book of Bell's art.

This was my first in-library read/ peruse, which makes it a bit special. show less

Despite the atrocious cover art, this slim but oversized collection has some of BV’s greatest illustrations, including: The Victorious (‘84), Mother And Daughter (‘85), The Lavalite World (’77), Heavy Metal (‘85), Alpnu (‘89), Queen Of The Amazons (‘86) (probably his record for most women in one illustration), The Magnificent (‘83), Haesel The Slave (undated), Scarlet Menace (‘81), & Egyptian Warrior (‘86). The large size and perfect printing quality (as with all six BV show more books I currently own) means these are ready to adorn your dormroom once you travel back to the ‘80s. There’s a 4-page bio by Nigel Suckling at the beginning. show less