Gorecore: how art got a new taste for gruesomeness

With the recent surge of war footage, true crime podcasts, medical education videos and dedicated gore group chats on Telegram, it is clear that gruesome images have regained prominence in visual culture. From online influencers like Ben Ditto who curate ominous spectacles on their feeds, to recent group shows like ‘Hardcore’ at Sadie Coles, there has been a recent influx of images that confront us with pain, suffering and the limits of human endurance – albeit from a safe, voyeuristic distance. But why? Could it be that the generation that came of age with unfiltered internet content from the early 2000s is now leaving its indelible mark on culture? Or has the gruesome image become a deviant form of political awareness?

Ever since the depiction of violent predators in cave paintings, humanity has been drawn to images portraying inner turmoil. Gore has been a pivotal theme in art history, compelling engagement across various time periods. In religious iconography, violence and martyrdom have been used to convey spiritual messages and moral lessons, with crucifixion scenes being central to Christian art. In a secular context, gore has often functioned as a deterrent against bad behavior, as exemplified by works like Gerard David’s The Judgement of Cambyses (1498), which graphically depicts the punishment of a corrupt judge. Within that same secular context, we also see political martyrdom in Jan de Baen’s Corpses of De Witt Brothers (1672) and morbid scientific curiosities in Rembrandt van Rijn’s Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp (1632). And then, of course, there is war, most famously depicted in Francisco de Goya’s Disasters of War (1810-1820). In these stark, monochromatic depictions, there is neither heroism nor a higher moral cause—just plain human barbarism and mutilated bodies, the collateral damage of someone’s will to power.

Today, the dissemination of gore and gruesome images relies heavily on corporate entities like 24-hour broadcasters and social media companies. Contemporary artists reflect on a mechanically induced, hysterical world constantly producing macabre events and images. This brings to mind Max Otis King’s Votive Watching (2022), a livestream of publically available, yet seldom watched funeral services he found online, and Maggie Dunlap’s Dead Body Found in Warehouse (2022), blurring the line between real and staged crime scenes in the online ether. Machines once hailed as pinnacles of human achievement now starkly confront us with our own physical and mental fragility. Works like Mire Lee’s Carriers (2020) or Sun Yuan and Peng Yu’s Can’t Help Myself (2016) shed light on the relationship between mechanical hardware and body horror, reminding us of our increasing reliance on mechanisms and automation, and also evoke the conditions of ongoing brutality in various parts of the world.

But the resurgence of gruesomeness in art isn’t all so serious. There appears to be an ironic, camp-like sensibility to how a new generation of artists and audiences handle gore. Whereas disgust and moral indignation might be normative responses, there is an exhilarating allure and dark humor to the grotesque. Works like Jordan Wolfson’s Coloured Sculpture (2016), Lily Bloom’s A Well of Endless Wishing for You (2023), Doreen Garner’s White Bread (2021), and Darja Bajagić’s Ex Axes (2023) are gruesome yet visually satisfying compositions that create an ambiguous realm where repulsion can also seduce. These artists operate at the uncomfortable nexus between violence and arousal, exploring the ever-complex interplay between desensitisation and fascination.

Perhaps the ongoing allure of gruesome images stems from a shift in how sensational events are assimilated into everyday life. During the Enlightenment, the religious void was filled with other, more secular forms of sensation. In Michel Houellebecq’s 2001 novel Atomised, new-age progressives in California are described as sensation addicts, relentlessly pursuing increasingly intense nerve impulses to satisfy their desires, which reached a tragic climax in the violent acts of Charles Manson and his followers. Almost 55 years later, most of us have settled for a more benign, anonymous and easily accessible variant of sensation-seeking via technological devices. However, amid censorship crackdowns by governments and corporations, exhibition spaces continue to be arenas where taboo subjects and gruesome images can be explored beyond the binary of good and evil. Artists bear the crucial responsibility of truthfully and unflinchingly portraying the darker aspects of the human condition. For as long as these unpleasant realities persist in the world, the gruesome image will endure.