Welcome to the darker side of the craft: Interview with Andrey Skull
Transmission 347: Interview with Andrey Skull
Andrey Skull is a Bulgarian multidisciplinary artist whose work bridges the gap between the visceral permanence of tattooing and the atmospheric depth of fine art. His provocative work spans a vast range of expressive forms. His artwork navigates the intricate details of Romanticism and Baroque, exploring the unsettling terrain between dark surrealism and psychological horror. He doesn’t just create images; he translates the subconscious. His fine art, primarily rendered in intricate, highly detailed graphite and charcoal, explores the darker recesses of existence. Through a lens of macabre art, he interrogates themes of psychosis, torment, inner conflict, turmoil, occult symbolism, mortality, and the complexities of raw human suffering. Each piece functions as a psychological study, where meticulous technique meets raw, unapologetic vulnerability.
His artwork, existing at the intersection of beauty and horror, is grounded in accuracy, realism, and a reluctance to follow fads. Some figures appear fractured, possessed, or suspended in states of transformation, reflecting an ongoing fascination with the darker aspects of consciousness. He creates artworks that challenge viewers to confront discomfort rather than avoid it. Andrey also has decades of tattooing expertise and a lifelong passion for fine art that has led him to develop a distinctive visual language rooted in raw emotion, distorted anatomy, and ritual detail. His goal is to produce art that penetrates deep into the skin and the mind and remains there. His drawings function as psychological landscapes open to interpretation: he invites viewers into a space where beauty and horror coexist, and where the boundaries between the physical and the mental begin to dissolve. Whether working on skin or canvas, his work is unified by an unmistakable, highly detailed aesthetic that compels the viewer to confront the truth beneath the surface.
Have you always been drawn to the dark surrealism, and the unsettling since childhood? Where did this fascination first originate?
I have always been drawn to darkness through it, feelings and expressions take on greater weight and depth; nothing is certain, nothing is clear. There are no easy answers; perhaps that is the effect I want to create—it is frightening, yet at the same time, it is appealing to me. There is a beauty within suffering.
Are your references more rooted in art history, horror culture, or personal memory? What artists or movements shaped your creativity vision?
Actually more inspired by classical art from older traditions like Romanticism and Baroque art but mixed with the horror aesthetic. The artists that inspired me are Kevin Lewellyn, H. R. Giger, Michael Hussar, Paul Booth, Robert Hernandez. I love the dramatic lighting, emotional intensity in figures that feel vulnerable, haunted, and psychologically exposed.
Your graphite drawings feel almost sculptural. Do your ideas start from narrative concepts, or from visual fragments that evolve organically? How do you visually translate something invisible like psychological pain into form?
Most of the time if I’m not inspired by a visual fragment I search for one, then at the ime of drawing the whole process starts to evolve organically and the imagination starts to work. I use my own language that triggers discomfort sometimes. I add a lot of weight and density as pain often feels heavy or suffocating. Everything gets on the surface eventually and this experience can be felt when you view the picture/artwork.
He tackles themes such as the fragility of the human psyche, placing him among a wave of artists redefining contemporary dark art who comfortably confront the uncomfortable.
What’s something technically difficult in your artwork that viewers might not notice?
The most technically difficult part is achieving precise, controlled hatching. Another challenge is creating surreal forms entirely from imagination while still keeping them anatomically believable for the viewer.
Your work often explores psychosis, torment, and the occult—do you see these as symbolic language, or a way to confront universal fears?
It’s not really an either/or—it’s both symbolic language and a way of confronting something. Yet again the elements that I draw aren’t random, they carry cultural and psychological weight. But if it was only symbolic and occult use, it would be nothing more than a tarot card or decoration. I like occult motifs as they point to the unknown forces that are beyond any rational understanding. Yes, symbols are tools and I use them but the goal is the feeling and confronting the viewer.
Why do you think people are drawn to disturbing imagery rather than avoiding it?
I think curiosity pulls the people in. Disturbing images can unlock fears that everyone can recognize but at the same time are curious about it, everything is trapped inside everyone’s mind. Art is not meant to comfort and I think that this disturbing and dramatic feeling is more real as people do not talk about those feelings, they are kept safe, unspoken, silent.
His work is characterized by its intense emotional charge and technical precision. Figures emerge from shadow in states of distortion, possession, or transformation, rendered with a sensitivity to texture and anatomy that reflects his years working on skin.
You cite mental illness, psychosis, and abuse as recurring subjects in your art. How do you decide when a feeling or a trauma is ready to be translated into a visual piece, rather than keeping it abstract?
I don’t really make decisions or set boundaries for the process, and I don’t come in with a fixed plan before I sit down in front of the paper. I’m not preparing for anything specific. Instead, I let my hand and mind move together, and I watch the image emerge on its own.
Do you find that the act of drawing these heavy themes acts as a release, or does it require you to sit in that headspace for an extended time? Is creating these images mentally cathartic, therapeutic, or something else entirely?
Drawing works as a form of therapy for me—it helps me release negative emotions and relieve stress. Everyone has their own way of feeling better or finding a sense of peace, whether through a hobby or through their work. I see art as a far healthier outlet than turning to drugs or alcohol—it gives me a way to process what I feel without losing control.
You master not only graphite realism and dark surrealism on paper but also in ink on skin. Do you approach composition differently knowing a piece will live on a body?
Yes, definitely—the composition changes completely. A drawing on paper exists on a flat, controlled surface, but a tattoo has to live on a body, which means working with curves, movement, and anatomy. The design has to flow with the form rather than sit on top of it.
Has tattooing shaped your sense of anatomy, permanence, or responsibility in your artwork? In an era of social media-driven art where artists are pressured to jump on viral styles to gain visibility, how do you insulate your creative growth from the noise of what is currently popular?
Thank you for these questions. On the first one, the answer is yes, tattooing has definitely shaped my understanding of anatomy, permanence, and responsibility in my work. Working directly on skin forces you to be much more aware of structure, flow, and how a design lives with the body over time. It also creates a stronger sense of responsibility, because the work is permanent and becomes part of someone’s identity, not just an image on paper.
To answer the second question, I should say that I’ve never been guided by trends or what is considered modern, and I don’t plan to be. When a client comes to me with a specific idea, they bring the concept, but I decide how it will be visually translated into a tattoo. I then explain how it will be executed in my own style. If someone wants a tattoo from me, it means they already connect with my visual language and want their idea to be interpreted through it.
Photos courtesy of Andrey Skull
Ciao! My name is Dominique. I’m Italian and I’m proud to be a mix. My father was an Italian chemical engineer and high school teacher, with Greek and Polish heritage. My mother is Haitian, she was high school language teacher, with Dominican, Spanish, French, Portuguese, African and Native American heritage. Being a mix makes me appreciate to want to understand different cultures and lifestyles. I grew up in Italy, lived few years in Haiti, travel around main European capitals, lived many years in China, in Spain and UK. Traveling makes me feel that we can learn something from every situation in every part of the world.
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