An Ode to John Blanche And The Power Of Art

As a gamer in the 21st century, even if you’ve never heard the name John Blanche before, you’ve still probably seen his art. Dark reds that are both jewel-like and discolored by smoke, bleak skin-like yellows that look like they are moldering away even as you look at them. For me, there’s a sense of ache, of things falling apart even as you stare at every lovingly sketched out detail. He was an artistic master who showed up at the right time, ended up in the right place, and then inspired a generation of artists and gamers alike.

If you don’t already know who I’m talking about, I’ll just drop “Emperor on the Golden Throne” below.

If you’ve ever looked at any Warhammer game, whether set in ancient fantasy or a grimdark future, you have John Blanche to thank for helping guide the aesthetic and mood which has allowed that universe to become so iconic, unique, and strange. His style of creating a world with dark undertones and disquieting ugliness that you can’t look away from has influenced so much gaming culture that I don’t think you can escape his influence. So with that, I just wanted to say a few words about the man who’s done so much for so many gamers with just pen, paint, and paper.

A Few Favorite Warhammer Works

Before I write about my personal feelings and get all sentimental, let’s just appreciate some of the pieces that made his name known to Warhammer fans everywhere and some that I particularly enjoy.

This was the cover art for Warhammer 40k’s 3rd edition, and it was a classic piece that I remember sticking in my brain. According to John himself, this piece took 3 months to make from all of the little bits of detail mixed into the rubble, dust, and background. For me, it’s that mixture of a classic heroic pose alongside a scene of ruination, where there doesn’t seem like there’s anything worthwhile left to save that gives it so much weight.

This one was made for Warhammer Fantasy, and I’m including it just because it’s such an early piece by John which really sets the stage for a lot of his later work. There’s more of a ‘metal album cover’ vibe here, but you can still see all that little detail work in the gnarled tree and rolling hills to offset this horde of undead. It also shows some of his artistic influences, which I’ll talk about later.

Created to help promote the ‘battle nuns in space’, the sisters of battle, this work is again fascinating in its juxtaposition. There are a few quotes from his life talking about not liking how women are portrayed scantily clad on album covers, and then we have this piece with high heel boots, corset, and very tight pants. Yet, it's all the detail work around her that makes this piece sing. It’s a grotesque depiction of humanity, with religious figures literally standing on skulls and skeletons wearing hateful expressions while trying to look triumphant.

This one just has so much detail, from the cathedral dome on the ship to the celestial phenomena in the background. The ship is opening up to fire from dozens of guns, while the front is scorched and pockmarked; it should be a moment that’s Star Trek-esque, with humanity boldly going into the void of space. Yet here, war chases it, a rift or explosion threatening the main ship to turn what should be a triumphant image into one that feels dangerous and harrowing.

There’s many more works I could add, and many more I’ve probably forgotten about. Blanche was a prolific artist, spending decades working his craft. As a final note, it’s amazing after spending a few hours working through his portfolio to realize just how human his artwork is. You can see the edges of the watercolor, you can feel the strokes of the pencil that line the characters. If you have a chance, do yourself a favor and search the internet for some of his art. Take some time to find a high resolution render and drink in all the details you see.

Appreciating Someone Through Their Art Alone

I first discovered John Blanche’s art right around the year 2001. It was high school, and someone in my grade had been bitten by the Warhammer bug, a phenomenon that many people know of now where you hear about the universe and suddenly need to know more. He wanted to play the Black Templars, and he had some spare Eldar miniatures that were given to me so he could have an opponent, and that’s how this universe got planted in my brain. I didn’t start properly collecting until COVID times and having disposable income, but it all started there.

I remember being… genuinely discomforted by John Blanche’s art. I had grown up relatively sheltered, and it was around this time I really started digging into art with more ‘adult’ views; Chris Metzen’s sketches for Diablo and Warcraft, Linkin Park Nu-Metal, you know, proper 2000’s emo-theatre-nerd boy stuff. Some of his artwork mixed with the rulebook descriptions painted humanity in such a disturbing light that it made me never want to play as the imperium of man in the games themselves. And yet, I couldn’t look away.

Without knowing why, John Blanche’s artwork got under my skin decades ago, and as I’ve gotten older I’ve gone out of my way to seek it out, seeing how his handdrawn works and use of color can seem so stark and bold and bleak all at the same time. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve also learned to appreciate who John Blanche was. Born in 1948, he was someone who grew up in a place recovering and rebuilding after World War 2, in a country watching its empire slowly come apart while also reconciling with the fact that maybe it hadn’t been a good idea in the first place. His gothic work also sometimes mixes with punk influences, and it’s easy to imagine him listening to The Sex Pistols and other bands like that right before drawing a space pirate.

If you want to hear him speak in his own words about his art, I recommend this one I found while writing the interview: I especially like how he says his Warhammer art is a big medieval panoply, and how it tries to make some ironic comments about how the world has been and how it still is today.

I’m not claiming to be an expert on John Blanche; I’ve only ever watched a couple interviews with him and read a handful of articles over the last few decades. Yet, he’s had such an interesting influence on my life, one that I am trying to come to terms with now that he’s gone. His art helped shape a famous game, a game that has become famous enough that it shapes the gaming space as a whole just by existing. So what did his art give us? What made it so iconic and stick in our collective minds for so long? For each of us, I feel like that answer will be a little bit different, while the appreciation for his portfolio stays the same.

A Legacy Of Art And Inspiration

One last personal note to finish this out and bring things full circle. I was fortunate enough to find a few video interviews that were done with John near the end of his life, and it's great to hear his thoughts directly after only knowing him through his art for so long. In this one, he talks a bit about his influences, such as loving the Northern Renaissance instead of the Italian one; artists that didn’t shy away from detail and gore and ‘grimdark’.

It triggered something in me, and how one of my favorite artists of all time was Albrecht Durer: a German artist who was known for these immaculate engravings he would create in just as the printing press began to spread. Knight, Death, and the Devil is this piece that’s been stuck in my head since middle school, and suddenly I see all the small resemblances. Durer loved to add elaborate city backdrops in his pieces, littering the ground with skulls and small animals running underfoot. Anyone who’s seen anything by Blanche can find the skulls everywhere, but you look at a piece like Nuln above or the small rat at the bottom of the Sister of Battle piece, and now there are direct connections.

There’s a lot of ways to interpret this work. Some see it as existential dread writ large, while others think it’s a conversation about Christian morality, while many more just think it’s a really awesome piece that’s gothic, dark, or technically skilled piece. For me? It’s always felt like a piece about resilience. An old knight in an old forest, enduring and continuing on even in a world filled with death and temptation. As I get older, I appreciate it more and more.

Fast forward to last Christmas. My brother, who is far, far more skilled with Warhammer hobby painting and modelling, handed me a gift that took my breath away. In a project that took who knows how many hours, he had taken multiple model kits from multiple ranges and sculpted and carved and painted until it was the best interpretation he could build of Knight, Death, and the Devil. The work put into this absolutely blows me away.

So on my desk now sits this 3D diorama my brother made in the 21st century. It’s made from modern miniature model pieces, now cobbled together as an homage to a 16th century artist, who in turn helped inspire another artist in the 20th century to create the pieces of art that were gothic and yes, ‘grimdark’, which helped give rise to the Warhammer franchise that would allow for these modern miniatures to be created in the first place. A full circle of art in one small diorama that somehow spans over 500 years.

It’s a constant reminder to me that we aren’t alone out here in the world. That yes, things can be grim and dark and sometimes cruel, but that we aren’t the only ones who have felt this way in our worst hours. It reminds me that through art, humanity can create dialogue not just with the people around us, but also create a conversation that echoes through the centuries.

Raise a Glass For John Blanche And Go Make Some Art

There’s probably someone reading this who is thinking I got this all wrong. That Blanche’s work isn’t about perseverance but hopelessness. Maybe it's about how small we are in the greater universe, or maybe that it’s just about drawing a really cool knight who happens to be in space. And, honestly? That’s amazing. Art is made to make you feel something, and with how many people quote his art as something that inspired them and pulled them into either art or gaming is proof that he succeeded..

In a world now filled with AI regurgitations, spending a few hours going back over a man’s work who spent a lifetime perfecting his craft so I could write this homage was a gift in and of itself. I’ll admit it is strange, feeling the need to eulogize a man who I’ve never met, but for someone who helped create one of the most recognizable and unique franchises in the gaming world, I felt it was important to respect his art and the pastime it helped build and that so many people across the world enjoy. After writing about him so intently, it’s inspired me to pick up a brush and paint a little miniature for myself again, or try and sketch something out for myself and no one else. I hope reading this has done the same for you.

Rest in Peace John Blanche. Thank you for your creativity, passion, and the hard work you put in to give us so much art. I hope that during your life, you knew just how many appreciated what you did, and still appreciate it now.