Author: Lay

For these semesters blog entries, I wanted to join some kind of course about either Grease Pencil, Shader creation or Sculpting. I researched a lot which course would be the best for me, considering price, topic and the way it gets thought. I stumbled upon Patata School, which is a membership-based program with different courses mainly about Blender. Some of which are about Grease Pencil and Shaders, both in a very stylized way which is perfect for me!

In this first blog post I wanted to set goals I want to achieve this semester.

The main course I will follow is “2.5D Illustration in Grease Pencil”. It has 4 Lessons, after which I want to create a 2.5D illustration based on the topic I did last semester. This project will let me translate those themes into visual art, using Grease Pencil’s dynamic tools to animate Death as both a mythic figure and a cultural mirror. For this, I will probably design a character, place it in one or more fitting environments and animate it.

As a small reminder what I wrote about last semester:

Fear and anxiety are fundamental psychological responses that connect perceived threats to subsequent behaviours. The brain’s amygdala initiates these reactions, while the prefrontal cortex regulates them. Culturally, death is rarely seen as a mere end but rather as a transition, reflected in global rituals. Mexico’s Día de los Muertos uses vibrant marigolds, sugar skulls, and altars to celebrate life’s continuity, while East Asian traditions employ white to symbolize purity and spiritual release. In the West, black attire codifies grief as a performative, socially structured process. These rituals demonstrate how colour semiotics and symbolic objects embody cultural attitudes – whether death is feared, embraced, or ritualized. For example, Madagascar’s Famadihana ceremony emphasizes kinship through the rewrapping of ancestors, while Guatemala’s giant kites during Día de los Difuntos blend art, politics, and ancestral communication.

Storytelling and media further explore these themes. Films like The Book of Life (2014) contrast the vibrant Land of the Remembered with the desolate Land of the Forgotten, reinforcing the idea that memory keeps the dead “alive.” The Halloween Tree (1993) reframes Halloween as an educational journey through global death traditions, linking seasonal colours to humanity’s ongoing dialogue with mortality.

Ultimately, fear and death are not just biological or emotional experiences but cultural constructs, expressed through colour, ritual, and narrative. Transforming terror into meaning, grief into celebration, and the unknown into a shared human story.

Otherwise the courses 2D to 3D: Grease Pencil in Blender, Grease Pencil in the Real World, Paintify | Digital Paint for Blender, 2D & 3D Typography in Blender and Cavalry, Pixel Art in Blender and PataClay | Blender Clay Materials & Brushes would interest me (so…almost all of them). I will have to discuss how many I can achieve in this semester.

Those are the most relevant movies/media I could find – if anyone has other ones where the rites are a central part of the plot, don’t hesitate to tell me.

Obon (2018)

Obon is a 2D animated short-film documentary by André Hörmann and Anna Samo, drawn in a sumi-e Esque style. It depicts Akiko Takakura, one of the last remaining survivors of the atomic bomb attack on Hiroshima. She tells her life story during the Obon, doing traditional activities like building an eggplant cow, praying at the family altar, visiting her families grave, leaving flowers and candies and releasing a floating lantern. Akiko Takakura is one of only 10 people within a radius of 500 meters from ground zero to have survived the atomic bomb blast. While her colleague and friend Satomi Usami died from burns and a broken back, Ms. Takakura survived the catastrophe by sheer luck. She remembers extraordinary details and is able to bring them to life in her stories. The scenes described in the script are based solely on her experiences.

The present is rendered in cool blues while her memories are brown and earth‑toned; visually, this reverses the intuitive association of colour with life and grey with the past. The blue present is quiet, reflective, almost suspended while the brown flashbacks feel dense, scorched and grounded in the physical trauma of Hiroshima.

http://obonfilm.com/

https://vimeo.com/916775026

The book of Life (2014)

The story is told by Mary Beth, a museum tour guide, that takes a group of students serving detention on a secret tour, telling them the story of a Mexican town called San Angel from the Book of Life, which holds every story in the world. She uses wooden puppets to tell the story, which is why the story has the same style in the movie.

Manolo, a young man whose world shatters when Maria – his beloved – appears to die before his eyes. Consumed by grief, he makes a fateful choice: to follow her into the Land of the Remembered.

Mary describes the Land of the Remembered like this: “The land of the Remembered was vibrant and joyous. Everything was like the land above, but it was more colourful. It was more beautiful. It was more festive. And on the Day of the Dead, that place was bursting with endless parties and spectacular parades.”

The dead who are remembered live in saturated hues and perpetual fiesta; this aligns with the festival’s idea that remembrance keeps the dead socially “alive.” By contrast, the Land of the Forgotten is desaturated, rough and desolate, a world where colour has drained away because memory has failed. The binary between these two realms literalises a key idea from the festival: that the true death is to be forgotten.

The Halloween Tree (1993)

Moundshroud explains to a group of kids what Halloween really is about while searching for their friend Pipkin, who’s suffering from appendicitis, which brings him to the verge of death. He shows them what their costumes symbolize.

The group builds a kite that sends them back in time, first to Ancient Egypt, where they learn about  the celebration “the Feast of the Ghosts” and about the significance of mummification. Then they arrive at Stonehenge in the Dark Ages in England. There, Celtic druids harvest straw to make into brooms, they discover a coven of witches chanting and celebrating the new year. Then in France, they arrive at Notre Dame in Paris where they learn about gargoyles and demons. Finally in Mexico, they learn about the significance of skeletons during “Día de los Muertos”.

As they travel, Halloween shifts from an evening of fun to a kind of educational rite of passage in which the children learn that their play is rooted in older, more serious practices of appeasing, honouring or understanding the dead.

Pipkin’s illness anchors these lessons in a concrete fear of losing a friend. The children’s journey, and the “bargain” they ultimately strike for his life, turns the festival into a negotiation with death rather than a simple celebration or a purely solemn vigil. Visually, the film uses seasonal colours to tie its global tour back to Halloween’s own palette: autumnal, liminal, tied to harvest and encroaching darkness.

The visual languages of death festivals are grounded in cultural semiotics, where colours and symbols reflect how societies imagine life, death, and transition rather than any inherent property of the hues themselves. Colour semiotics (the study of colour as a sign system) shows that meanings emerge through repeated associations within specific traditions, especially in ritual contexts. During liminal periods such as death rites, visual markers like colour and dress make the threshold visible, signalling that individuals and communities are temporarily removed from ordinary social structures.

East Asia: White
In many East Asian cultures, particularly China, Korea, and Japan, white is the traditional colour of mourning and funerals, a practice shaped by Confucian hierarchies and Buddhist ideas of death as transition. In imperial China, undyed white cloth signified purity, asceticism, and humility, and was linked to the philosophical notion of wu (無), “non‑being” or “void,” emphasising withdrawal from worldly status during mourning. Confucian mourning codes prescribed white or plain hemp garments for specific kin relationships and periods of grief, visually marking the mourner’s temporary removal from ordinary social roles. Buddhism further reinforced white as a colour of release and spiritual purity, framing death as liberation from suffering rather than an absolute end.

Día de los Muertos: Colourful
By contrast, Mexico’s Día de los Muertos embraces death with vibrant colours that turn mourning into celebration. The festival reframes loss as a joyful reunion with departed loved ones. Families build ofrendas (altars) adorned with marigolds, whose orange and yellow hues and strong scent are believed to guide spirits back home, alongside candles, sugar skulls, and favourite foods of the deceased. Pinks, purples, yellows, and blues reject the sombre austerity associated with Western mourning, framing death as part of a cyclical continuity of life rather than a definitive rupture.

The West: Black
The Western association of black with death and funerals is so ingrained that it appears natural, yet it is the product of specific historical developments. In ancient Rome, mourners wore the dark toga pulla, establishing a link between dark garments and grief. The consolidation of black as the default mourning colour gained momentum from the 14^th century onward as deep, uniform black dyes became more technically feasible and symbolically desirable, signifying seriousness, restraint, and status.

Sumptuary laws

Sumptuary laws in late medieval and early modern Europe helped standardise mourning colours by regulating which fabrics and hues different social classes could wear, including in mourning. These laws made grief visibly legible and socially controlled: dark, sober clothing signalled both the mourner’s emotional state and their place in the social hierarchy.

Victorian performance of grief
In the nineteenth century, industrial dye production and expanding middle‑class cultures of respectability turned black mourning dress into a rigidly codified system. Cheaper, consistent black fabrics allowed a broader range of people to adopt what had previously been aristocratic mourning styles, using clothing to display moral seriousness and social propriety. Etiquette manuals and fashion norms elaborated phases of mourning: “deep mourning” in matte black crepe with minimal ornament, followed by “half‑mourning” in greys, lavenders, and mauves – so that colour tracked the socially acceptable timeline of grief.

Boundaries between worlds
Across cultures, the colours of death festivals mark liminality. The threshold between the domains of the living and the dead. In Samhain’s descendants and related autumn festivals, the contrast between firelight and seasonal darkness, combined with harvest foods, symbolises protection and shared abundance as ancestral and otherworldly presences draw near. On All Saints’ Day in Catholic Europe, candlelight at graves and in churches creates a soft, warm glow that frames prayer and remembrance as ways of bridging the gap between the living and the departed. In Obon, paper lanterns and floating lights on water guide ancestral spirits back to the other world, visually mapping their journey through illuminated paths. In Guatemala’s Día de los Difuntos, giant, brightly coloured kites ascending into the sky make the vertical connection between earth and heaven visible, turning the air itself into a communicative space.

Objects of remembrance: skulls, shrouds, lanterns, and kites
Symbolic objects give colour a tangible presence in these rituals. In Día de los Muertos, sugar skulls, marigold petals, candles, and colourful papel picado materialise the idea that the dead are honoured guests rather than terrifying intruders. In Famadihana in Madagascar, white cloth shrouds renewed and wrapped around ancestral remains stress purity, continuity, and the ongoing obligations between generations. Obon’s lanterns, spirit boats, and small animal figures made from cucumbers and eggplants embody guidance, speed, and care, suggesting that the living are responsible for safely escorting spirits. In Guatemalan kite festivals, the vast paper kites serve as both messages to the dead and canvases for communal memories and political commentary, mixing mourning with visual statements about identity and history.

Private or public rites
The organisation of colour and objects within a festival shapes whether grief is primarily private, communal, or public. Famadihana emphasises intimate, family‑centred grief: exhumation, rewrapping, and dancing with ancestors draw the living into direct physical contact with the dead, reinforcing kinship bonds. All Saints’ Day combines quiet family visits to graves with shared liturgical structures, blending personal remembrance with collective ritual time. Día de los Muertos moves remembrance into public space through parades and communal ofrendas, where vibrant colours and abundant offerings transform mourning into an openly shared celebration. Halloween, though no longer a mourning ritual, converts death imagery into a spectacle of play and fear: black and orange decorations, jack‑o’‑lanterns, and costumes invite people to engage with the idea of death as entertainment rather than sorrow.

A spectrum of grief

Taken together, these traditions show that grief is not a single emotion but a spectrum, ranging from austere reflection to exuberant celebration and from domestic ritual to public protest. White mourning in much of East Asia encodes death as purity, withdrawal, and spiritual focus; black funerals in the West emphasise solemnity, loss, and controlled display; and the brilliant hues of Día de los Muertos highlight continuity, joy, and ongoing relationships with the dead. Within these colour frameworks, participants can move between roles: hosts to the dead in Mexican ofrendas, intimate mourners in Famadihana or All Saints’ Day, playful spectators in Halloween, or activists in Guatemalan kite ceremonies. The colours, objects, and gestures at work are not mere decoration but active elements shaping how societies imagine, express, and live with the universal experience of loss.

Sources

Rao, A. (2025, October 28). Beyond black: the colours of death across cultures. Meer. https://www.meer.com/en/98241-beyond-black-the-colours-of-death-across-cultures

Altima SFI. (2024, October 1). Colours of bereavement: Cultures and religions. https://www.altima-sfi.com/en/blog/colours-of-bereavement

Anubis Cremations. (2025, August 14). Funeral traditions in East Asian religions: Buddhism, Taoism and Confucianism. https://anubiscremations.com/funeral-traditions-in-east-asian-religions-buddhism-taoism-and-confucianism/

Eterneva. (2016, May 27). The history of mourning dress and attire in the West. https://www.eterneva.com/resources/mourning-dress

Famadihana

The Merina people observe two types of rites of passage: the initial funeral and the famadihana ceremony. The funeral must take place within three days of death and is the responsibility of the local community where the deceased lived. The famadihana, however, occurs at least two years later and involves the dispersed family. The initial funeral is considered less significant than the famadihana, as there is little time to gather money or family members. As a result, only local relatives and neighbors are usually present.

The corpse may be buried in the ancestral tomb or temporarily interred in the ground. Ancestral tombs cannot be opened more than once a year, and those who die from highly contagious diseases cannot be placed in the tomb until their flesh has fully decomposed, hence the need for temporary burial. Additionally, family tombs are more expensive than temporary graves.

When a death occurs, the family immediately prepares the house: the main room is tidied or completely cleared, and clean papyrus mats are laid on the floor. The northeast (the most valued) corner of the room is curtained off with mats to create a small enclosure for the body. After being prepared and wrapped in plain cotton cloth, the body is placed here. These preparations are completed by household members before the death is announced to outsiders. Once the news is shared, women from neighboring villages bring water and firewood to the bereaved household and help prepare the funeral meal.

On the morning of the funeral, the body is placed in a hastily made coffin. It may be taken to a church before being transported to the tanindrazana (family tomb) or buried in the village where the death occurred. The atmosphere of the funeral is somber and quiet, marked by sadness and mourning.

The famadihana ceremony can only take place between July and September, the period of least agricultural activity. Since the date is chosen in advance, families can save money for a larger ceremony and ensure that dispersed relatives can attend. During the famadihana, the body is exhumed and wrapped in finely woven, brightly colored silk sheets known as lamba mena.

Harris, C. C., & Bloch, M. (1972). Placing the Dead: Tombs, Ancestral Villages and Kinship Organization in Madagascar. British Journal of Sociology, 23(4), 500. https://doi.org/10.2307/588339

Obon

Buddhism teaches that the existence of all sentient beings is marked by impermanence. All beings within the six realms of existence are bound to an endless cycle of arising, changing, passing away, and being reborn – until they achieve liberation, or Nirvana. This ultimate goal can only be attained by letting go of all attachments and desires and embracing a true understanding of the Buddha’s teachings. Rebirth occurs in one of the six realms, determined by the karma accumulated in previous lives and during one’s current existence.

In Japanese popular belief, the mid-summer harvest season is a time when ancestral spirits return to visit the world of the living. This occasion, known as Obon, is marked by deep respect and elaborate rituals. In many households, decorations made from cucumbers and eggplants are displayed. The cucumber figures resemble swift horses, symbolizing the spirits’ quick arrival, while the eggplant figures depict slowly trotting cows, guiding the spirits back to the netherworld. In coastal or riverside areas, floating lanterns or spirit boats are used to send the ancestral spirits home. If a family member has passed away in the previous year (hatsubon), special care is taken to honor the new spirit with proper rites and attention. Family, friends, and neighbors gather to build a shōrōbune (spirit boat). These boats reflect the individual preferences of the deceased, and modern versions may take the form of buses, carriages, cars, or even rockets instead of traditional sailing ships. Each vehicle bears the name, family crest, and often a photo of the deceased. The sails are typically adorned with images of Amidha Buddha, Kannon, or lotus flowers, expressing the hope that the deceased will avoid Gaki-dō (the realm of hungry ghosts) and instead await rebirth in the Western Paradise or Pure Land.

In early August, on the first day of Obon, graves are cleaned and decorated. At home, a special spirit shelf (bondana) is set up, holding the ancestor’s mortuary tablets (ihai), along with offerings of flowers, fruits, sweets, and vegetables. The shelf is decorated with photographs of the deceased and special lanterns. Seasonal dumplings and sweets are prepared and offered to the visiting spirits. A monk is invited to chant sutras, and preparations for building the shōrōbune begins. On the 12th of the month, fireworks go on sale, and cemetery visitors and spirit ship crews stock up on ammunition for the event. The 13th marks the day the ancestors return home. Cemeteries are visited again, and in Nagasaki, families gather for a lively picnic at the graveside, followed by fireworks in the evening. Many local graveyards are equipped with stone benches to accommodate the assembled family members. The gathering continues at home, where food, drinks, and stories about the deceased are shared in the company of the ancestral spirits (go-senzo-sama). On the 14th, the spirits are served three vegetarian meals, such as Sekihan (red bean rice), Sōmen noodles (thin Japanese wheat noodles), or Inarizushi (sweet tofu pouches). For hatsubon, family and friends complete the spirit boats for the return parade. On the 15th, the spirits depart for the netherworld. At home, extra food and okuri dango (rice dumplings) are laid out as provisions for the spirits, both related and unattached (gakijoro-sama). The parade then begins.

Nagasaki’s hilly terrain makes the parade a physically demanding event, often accompanied by generous amounts of food and drink, including alcohol. As the spirit boats are pushed through the streets, Chinese gongs and bells ring out, and firecrackers (bakuchiku), loud multi-break shells (rangyoku), and fire arrows (yabiya) are set off. The crowd chants “doi doi,” a dialectal abbreviation of the Nembutsu prayer. To minimize traffic disruption, the shōrōnagashi (spirit boat parade) now starts at noon and ends around 11:00 PM, whereas it previously began after midnight and lasted until dawn on the 16th. After the parade, the spirit boats were once left adrift at sea, but today, they are disposed of by the city. Finally, homes and graves are cleaned, remaining fireworks are set off, incense is lit, and farewells are bid until the following year.

MARRA, C. (2023). The two O-bon-festivals in Nagasaki-celebrating the bonds between the living and the dead. In ANNALS OF “DIMITRIE CANTEMIR” CHRISTIAN UNIVERSITY: Vol. XXII

In the previous blog post I talked about Samhain, All Saints’ Day and Halloween. I will describe other festivals about the remembrance of the dead, however I will strictly stick to the sources, as I do not have experience with them. Also, I will (selfishly) pick out the most visually unique ones, but here is a small list of other festivals I found: Pchum Ben,Undas, Luminația, Qingming, Pitru Paksha. If I have gotten anything wrong, please to not hesitate to contact me.

Día de los Muertos / Day of the Dead

The annual Día de los Muertos celebration embodies the Mexican relationship with death. Even though it is a very important and solemn occasion, Día de los Muertos is not considered a time to be sad about the loss of loved ones, but rather a time to be happy for their return. The dead are guests at a feast that the family has prepared in their honor – they enjoy the scent of foods, incense, and flowers but cannot participate in the conversation. To help guide the dead home, relatives spread aromatic flowers that emit a pungent scent leading them toward the ofrenda (altar), where the banquet awaits them.

In some regions, October 27th is the day to remember spirits with no survivors to greet them and no home to visit, and October 28th is set aside for those who died by accident, murder, or other violent means. In contrast, dead children are expected to come home to visit on October 31st, but to leave by November 1st to make room for the adult dead. In the afternoon of November 1st, bells toll at churches announcing the arrival of the “Faithful Dead” (adults). In the evening, complete families may go to the cemetery to offer a vigil for the souls of their loved ones. By midnight, cemeteries are filled with lit candles. The souls return to the world of the dead on the afternoon of November 2nd.

Día de los Muertos instils values that foster hope; those who provide offerings trust that their own survivors will take care of them in a similar fashion after death. In this manner, an individual’s immortality is assured. Mexicans embrace death, as is reflected through this celebration as well as the different rituals that are practiced when someone dies. This celebration also serves to demonstrate the intensity of familial fidelity, a devotion that reaches beyond the grave. This devotion to those who have died also embraces friends and even strangers; offerings are often made to the “ánima sola” (the forgotten soul) or “el muerto desconocido” (the unknown dead). Traditionally, the costumes of children would consist of images of the dead, such as a corpse bride, a catrina (a female skeleton that represents death), or a skeleton.

Gutiérrez, I. T., Rosengren, K. S., & Miller, P. J. (2015). Día de los Muertos: Learning about death through observing and pitching in. In Advances in child development and behavior (Vol. 49, pp. 229-249). JAI.

Festival de Barriletes Gigantes / Día de los Difuntos

The barriletes gigantes developed specifically within a Guatemalan Maya cultural context. The kites reflect centuries of colonialism and Christianity mingled with subversive Indigenous Maya beliefs, while also presenting a vision for the future through their imagery. Their function is not passive but active, inherently invested in constructing Maya culture. If participants successfully get the kite up into the air, they write notes and wrap them around the rope, then wait for the wind to push them upward and transmit the messages to their deceased loved ones.

While small kites are flown in cemeteries throughout Guatemala on Día de los Difuntos, these giant kites are made only in Sumpango and Santiago, Department of Sacatepéquez. These kites represent a fusion of art, religion, and politics. Their construction and display allow the living to honour the ancestors and communicate with them in a communal setting – grief is not individual. Simultaneously, the kites function to raise consciousness among the living about issues of injustice or their heritage. These two functions work together to help promote Maya ways of living and beliefs about life and death, particularly regarding the insignificance of the individual compared to the wider community.

By honouring the past, they also require an investment in the future. Beyond these historical lessons, the kites honour Maya heritage, make a statement about what it means to be Maya in the present day, and offer a vision for the future. These kites occur at the intersection of the past, present, and future of the Maya community, communicating messages between the ancestors, the living, future progeny, and the surrounding nature.

Deutsch, B. (2020). Barriletes Gigantes in Guatemala: Kites as a Communication with the Past and Future (Master’s thesis, Graduate Theological Union).

During the peer review, the idea raised to compare the remembrance of the dead of “my” culture to others. With that I want to preface, that I am not religious, I just grew up conservative Christian. In the future I will refer to the personification of death “Grim Reaper” so when talking about death, it refers to people that passed.

Samhain

The Celts believed in an afterlife, with souls journeying to an Otherworld sometimes called “Tir na tSamhraidh” or “Land of the Sumer”. They believed that once a year, on Samhain, the boundary between this world and the Otherworld opened. Samhain marked the end of summer and the beginning of winter, and began when the sun set on October 31st. The festival included a feast celebrating the harvest and the temporary abundance of food.

Samhain was a major Celtic festival marking the new year and served important administrative purposes, like a mix of Tax Day and Halloween. People gathered at Tara for feasting, games, debt repayment, and trials, and all home fires were replaced with embers from a sacred Druid bonfire. Samhain also appears throughout Celtic mythology as a night when the barrier between worlds weakens. In one tale, the Fomorians demand a cruel Samhain tax until divine heroes drive them away. Another story tells of Angus Og, who finds his dream-lover transformed into a swan each Samhain, and joins her by turning into a swan himself. The hero Finn mac Cumhaill defeats a magical attacker who burns Tara every Samhain, and in the eerie tale of Nera, a man follows a corpse into the Otherworld and returns just in time to stop a future fairy attack.

Allerheiligen / All Saints’ Day

First, a personal story (which I had to dig for A LOT to find stuff on the internet): I didn’t grow up with Halloween, but with “Heilignstrizlfedern”. Kids from my (really small) village meet on the 1^st of November at 5 a.m. in the village centre and walk together from house to house singing “Gelobt sei Jesus Christus, wir bitten um ein’ Heiligenstriezel”. They get sweets from each house and leave by saying “Vergelt’s Gott, Allerheilgen”. At the end, each kid gets an Allerheiligenstriezel. This is a tradition I haven’t seen anywhere else, however in the research I found that something similar, but with different names like “Striezelbettler” or “Krapfenschnaggeln” is done throughout Austria.

https://www.tirol.tl/de/highlights/brauchtum-kultur/krapfenschnappen

https://bauernladen.at/artikel/regionalitaet/fur-striezelbettler-und-verliebte

The Heiligenstriezel, which is a braided yeast bread, apparently originated from an old tradition, where the widow’s hair was braided, cut off and burned with the deceased husband. The hair then got replaced by the braided bread.

https://www.hager.co.at/warum-es-zu-allerheiligen-einen-eigenen-striezel-gibt/

After that, at around 3 p.m., there is the “Totenmesse” or “Requiem Mass” which is a Mass of the Catholic Church offered for the repose of the souls of the deceased. The theme of sorrow and grief was made to emphasise the whole community’s worship of God, in which the deceased is entrusted to God’s mercy. After the mass, there is a procession to the cemetery, where the graves got decorated with floral arrangements, wreaths, candles and existing plants were covered with fir branches, that symbolize the hope of eternal life. The cemetery turns into a sea ​​of ​​lights due to the candles or “eternal lights” which is a symbol for the presence of God.

https://www.steirische-spezialitaeten.at/brauchtum/allerheiligen-allerseelen.html

Halloween

Celebrated on October 31st, Halloween has become a heavily commercialized holiday in the United States, though it is rooted in earlier traditions such as Samhain and later Christian practices like All Hallows’ Eve. Modern Halloween revolves around costumes, trick-or-treating, house decorations, and themed parties. One of its most iconic symbols is the jack-o’-lantern. The tradition is based on the legend of Jack, a clever blacksmith who outwits the Devil. After Jack dies, he is denied entry to both Heaven and Hell and is forced to wander the earth with only an ember placed in a carved-out turnip to light his way. When Irish immigrants brought the story to America, pumpkins replaced turnips due to their abundance and larger size, creating the familiar glowing jack-o’-lanterns seen today.

Source

Morton, L. (2012). Trick or treat: A history of Halloween. Reaktion Books.​

The classic Western image is the Grim Reaper: a cloaked skeleton with a scythe, usually male‑coded, mysterious, and frightening, symbolising death as an evil, inevitable force. Many modern stories give Death a more human look: an “average Joe” worker, a beautiful woman, or a vague humanoid presence, allowing audiences to relate to death as if it were a person. Personified Death often has a job: collecting souls, making deals, or enforcing “rules”, which makes death feel like a structured process rather than pure chaos. Personality can range from villainous predator to gentle guide, caring sibling, or reflective narrator, shaping whether death feels terrifying, comforting, or strangely neutral. These characters mirror cultural attitudes: in much Western media, Death still leans toward the frightening and violent, but there is a clear trend toward more nuanced, empathetic, everyday interpretations as well.

Characteristics: Death, Grim Reaper, Charon, Thanatos

Death is an abstract, flexible figure representing the inevitability of dying. Depending on the narrative, it may appear frightening, neutral, or even compassionate. Forms of Death vary widely, from the Western Grim Reaper to a genderless presence, a beautiful figure, or a mundane bureaucrat.

The Grim Reaper, shaped by Western and Christian traditions, is depicted as a hooded skeleton wielding a scythe. Its primary function is to arrive at the moment of death, sever the thread of life, and occasionally escort the soul onward. In modern media, the figure is sometimes softened into a humorous or “working” character while retaining its essential role.

In Greek mythology, Charon is the ferryman of the dead who transports souls across the River Styx (or Acheron). Charon does not cause death but functions as a psychopomp, guiding already‑deceased souls within the structure of the Greek afterlife. His role highlights the procedural or bureaucratic aspects of death in myth.

Thanatos, also from Greek mythology, personifies peaceful or natural death. Unlike violent death deities, he is calm, inevitable, and not malevolent. Sometimes sent by higher gods, Thanatos acts as a reaper‑type figure, bridging the role between divine authority and human mortality.

Characters

Death was briefly mentioned in the previous blog post. The personification of Death in Puss in Boots: The Last Wish combines characteristics of both “Death” and the “Grim Reaper”. The wolf wears a cloak and wields two scythes, but is no skeleton. He is blood‑thirsty, menacing, and frighteningly self‑assured, accompanied by a distinctive whistling motif.

Death in Supernatural first appears stepping out of a pale grey 1959 Cadillac Series 62 coupé with the licence plate “BUH‑BYE”, also known as “Pale Horse”, while “I Am No One…” by Gemini Killer plays. (cars are an important thing in Supernatural idk) This is a homage to the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, each with their own horse. Death is portrayed with an irreplaceable sense of weariness and disinterest in mortal affairs and is so ancient that he cannot remember whether he or God came first. He personifies death itself, similar to Thanatos, embodying the mortality inherent in all living beings.

A woman! She fulfils the duties of a Grim Reaper, visiting those who have died and guiding them to the other side. She is friendly and empathetic towards humans, acting as one herself to stay in touch with their experiences and understand how death feels.

The line of imagination and reality is blurry. A skeletal grim reaper with black wings, a dark cloak and a scythe (and red hair?) pursuits the main character. Baron Munchausen safes himself with his imagination, but as soon as he has doubts the grim reaper comes back. It’s job is similar to the one in Puss in Boots – relentlessly trying to kill the main character.

Decim is emotionless and lacks understanding of human feelings. His task is to decide the fate of each human through the results of the games they must play. The characteristics of Thanatos suit him best – calm and inevitable.

Source

Lammon, Marissa. (2024). The Big, Bad… Grim: Personification of death in Puss in Boots: The Last Wish. Mortality. 1-13. 10.1080/13576275.2024.2308881.

Moore, K. (2006). The Grim Reaper, working stiff: The man, the myth, the everyday (Master’s thesis). Bowling Green State University.

O’Connor, A. M. (2024). Death is whoever does Death’s job: The gender of death personifications in contemporary fantasy literature (Master’s thesis). University of Helsinki.

Psychological Foundations

Fear acts as a bridge between detecting a threat and the behaviours that follow, initiating a chain reaction of events. Ralphs Adolphs, professor of psychology, neuroscience, and biology at the California Institute of Technology, concluded the distinction between fear and anxiety. Fear is the immediate reaction to a present danger, for example, a spider in the room, while anxiety is about anticipating and preparing for potential threats, as in worrying that a spider might be in the room.

In the brain, the amygdala serves as the starting point for fear, receiving sensory information and responding by sending signals to other areas in the brain. The prefrontal cortex regulates the fear response by evaluating how imminent the threat is. The expression of fear is most likely a leftover action that was previously a crucial response for survival.

About Puss in Boots

Puss in Boots originates from a European fairy tale about an anthropomorphic cat who uses trickery and deceit to gain power, wealth, and the hand of a princess in marriage for his penniless and low-born master.

DreamWorks Animation adapted this fairy tale within the Shrek movies, and in 2011 Puss received his own standalone film, Puss in Boots. In this movie, Puss is a Spanish-speaking anthropomorphic cat and a fugitive on the run from the law, seeking to restore his honour.

Puss in Boots: The Last Wish

After 11 years, Puss returned in Puss in Boots: The Last Wish (2022). The story follows Puss as he teams up with Kitty Softpaws and Perrito to find the Last Wish of the fallen Wishing Star, in hopes of restoring eight of his nine lives. They race against other fairy tale characters seeking the same treasure, while a sinister wolf, the personification of Death, hunts Puss himself.

Depicting anxiety

Depicting internal feelings externally is difficult, but Puss in Boots: The Last Wish manages it remarkably well. There is a scene in which Puss hears Death’s iconic melody and has a panic attack.

It begins with everything around him slowing down. He hears the wolf’s whistle, and his fur stands on end. A dolly zoom is used, a technique designed to disorient the viewer. When the camera turns to reveal the wolf, there is a stark contrast in colour: the battlefield around Puss is brightly lit in red hues, while the wolf stands in shadows with darker, blue tones – even though the same space had a red hue moments earlier. The wolf’s red eyes intensify the effect. When Puss turns around, he too is cast in a blue tint.

The wolf is framed with a lot of negative space, creating a sense of stillness, while Puss is surrounded by chaos. Chromatic aberration becomes pronounced, simulating how detached from reality someone may feel during a panic attack.

Puss runs away mid-battle into the blue, foggy forest. As the camera follows him, the environment appears blurry and distorted, again enhanced by chromatic aberration. The wide-angle lens exaggerates the distortion of close-ups.

As Puss runs, he believes he sees the wolf in the forest, but these figures turn out to be shapes merely resembling the wolf. This reflects pareidolia, the human tendency to perceive faces in patterns where none exist.

Perrito then finds him lying at the base of a tree. This calm moment, following intense visual exaggeration, underlines how Puss is feeling and highlights the dissonance between his internal and external worlds.

Death

If one were to ask how another ‘sees’ death, there are overwhelming majorities: Death is male, Death is cloaked, Death is macabre. Literature as early as the 13th century feature the appearance of the Grim Reaper – a skeletal figure with black robes holding a scythe. The images of death ‘harvesting’ lives reflects the 20th and 21st century attempts to showcase death as something to be feared, that can simultaneously be conquered. Death remains the villainous obstacle to be overcome, and is personified in ways that demonstrate its wickedness, as well as its ability to fall at the hands of the story’s hero.

The wolf’s terrifying image, haunting laughter, and deadly weaponry demonstrate that Puss should be afraid of Death – because death is inherently frightening. The cloaked figure with blood-red eyes only ever appears in darkness, announces his presence through whistles or menacing laughter, and is always seen with sharp, deadly weapons in hand. Associated with colours signalling danger, morbidity, and violence (in addition to his sheer dominating size in comparison to the hero), Death is a frightening sight to behold for all viewers.

Source

Adolphs, R. (2013). The biology of fear. Current Biology(23(2)), R79–R93. doi:10.1016/j.cub.2012.11.055

Lammon, Marissa. (2024). The Big, Bad… Grim: Personification of death in Puss in Boots: The Last Wish. Mortality. 1-13. 10.1080/13576275.2024.2308881.

Nurcahya, Radhitya & Juanda, Juanda. (2024). Puss’ Anxiety and Defense Mechanism in The Puss In Boots: The Last Wish Movie. Mahadaya: Jurnal Bahasa, Sastra, Dan Budaya. 4. 187-196. 10.34010/mhd.v4i2.13748.

Printing, in its many forms, is the process of transferring visual information from a digital or physical template onto a physical and tactile medium. Despite its long history, printing continues to evolve. Central to most modern printing systems is the CMYK colour model: cyan, magenta, yellow, and key (black), which defines how printers mix coloured inks to reproduce full-colour images.

Inkjet Printing

Inkjet printers are among the most common and versatile printing devices used today. Their operation relies on microscopic precision. At the heart of an inkjet printer is the print head, which contains thousands of nozzles capable of ejecting microscopic droplets of ink at high speed. As the print head moves horizontally across the paper, it deposits ink in precise locations determined by the digital file. The paper advances incrementally after each pass, allowing the printer to build the image line by line.

Each nozzle is responsible for a specific colour, usually cyan, magenta, yellow, and black, which are combined through dithering and layering to create a full spectrum of tones and hues. The ink used is typically water-based or pigment-based, optimized to absorb quickly into the paper without excessive bleeding. The result is a continuous-tone image that appears smooth to the human eye, despite being composed of countless microdroplets. This technology allows for high-resolution photographic prints, text documents, and even fine art reproductions.

Risograph Printing

In contrast, Risograph printing, often called “RISO”, is a more tactile and analogue method, though it also incorporates digital preparation. Originating in Japan in the 1980s, the Risograph functions similarly to a screen printer. The process begins with converting an artwork into a stencil: the image is burned onto a master sheet, which is then wrapped around a rotating drum filled with soy-based ink of a specific colour. When the machine operates, the drum spins and pushes ink through the stencil onto the paper beneath it.

To create multi-coloured prints, different colour drums must be inserted sequentially, with new stencils for each colour layer. The paper passes through the machine multiple times for each colour, resulting in unique overlaps, misregistration, and textures that give RISO prints their distinctive charm. Because the inks are semi-transparent, layering them naturally mimics the subtractive colour process of CMYK, producing vibrant and sometimes unexpected colour interactions.

Unlike the precision of inkjet printing, Risograph embraces imperfection. Its handmade quality, uneven textures, and slight misalignments contribute to its growing popularity among designers and artists seeking an organic aesthetic.

(Filament) 3D Printing

A radically different form of printing is three-dimensional (3D) printing, which builds physical objects rather than flat images. Most consumer-grade 3D printers use a technique called material extrusion, which operates in principle like a glue gun. Plastic filament is heated until it liquifies, then extruded through a nozzle that moves along generated paths. The printer interprets digital files such as STL or FBX by slicing them into thin two-dimensional layers. Each layer is printed sequentially as the platform lowers or the print head rises, allowing the object to gradually take shape.

Although primarily used for prototyping and fabrication, 3D printing also intersects with traditional printing ideas, especially regarding layering and texture. Some printers are capable of multi-material or multi-colour printing, hinting at a convergence between CMYK colour theory and volumetric fabrication.

Gedankenspiel: Mixing Printing Techniques Digitally and Physically

The boundaries between digital and physical printing processes are increasingly blurred. Artists and designers have begun experimenting with cross-media approaches that combine principles from multiple technologies.

Lithophane

This technique involves creating multi-coloured 3D prints using multiple nozzles loaded with CMYK filaments. The print appears as a plain white relief when unlit, but when illuminated from behind, variations in thickness reveal a hidden colour image. The light passes through the translucent material in different intensities, producing tonal gradations akin to photographic printing.

See: https://wiki.bambulab.com/en/knowledge-sharing/CMYK-color-lithophane-printing-instructions

Replicating RISO digitally

To digitally mimic RISO aesthetics, an image can be split into CMYK channels, each converted to grayscale and then processed through a halftone screen at distinct angles. When recombined in RGB mode, with colours reassigned to each layer and slight misalignments introduced, the result replicates the layered and imperfect charm of real Risograph printing. Adding a paper texture enhances the illusion of ink absorption and grain.

See: https://www.liznugentdraws.com/blog/3221

RISO compositor in 3D

Artists have begun creating RISO compositors in 3D software such as Blender with the same principle as the digital RISO.

See: https://youtu.be/YYkCCqRE7B8?si=zl8j3LsqWlgGcHTG

When I applied for this master’s degree, I mentioned being interested in projection mapping. This interest was awakened again when I visited the installations of Klanglicht this year. Standing among the lights, sounds, and shifting architectural forms, I felt both inspired and overwhelmed. I realized I had no idea how to approach this topic in my own work; therefore, I will use this blog post to explore and understand projection mapping.

Image Beyond the Screen: Projection Mapping

Projection mapping integrates light, image, and physical space in a way that fundamentally challenges how we perceive visual art. Instead of presenting images on a flat, rectangular screen, artists use the three-dimensional world as their canvas. This approach transforms architecture, sculpture, or even moving objects into dynamic visual surfaces that respond to digital animation, sound, and movement. The result is not merely decorative – it can be immersive, narrative, or conceptual, depending on the artist’s intention.

The conceptual roots of projection mapping can be traced back to pre-modern visual devices such as the camera obscura and the magic lantern. In the 17th century, the magic lantern projected hand-painted images onto walls and screens, enchanting audiences with ghostly apparitions and dreamlike spectacles. These early experiments already contained the essence of projection mapping: the fusion of light, illusion, and physical space. However, what differentiates contemporary projection mapping is its precision, interactivity, and its ability to align perfectly with the contours of real-world objects and to integrate digital media in real time.

The modern term “projection mapping” (sometimes called video mapping) emerged around 2008, paralleling the rapid development of affordable digital projectors and computer-based design tools. This technological accessibility enabled artists, designers, and technologists to experiment with mapping projections onto buildings, sculptures, and performance spaces with previously impossible accuracy.

How Projection Mapping Works

Projection mapping relies on careful alignment between digital imagery and physical surfaces. Although each project is unique, most follow a general workflow:

1. Mapping the Space: The physical characteristics of the target surface, for example, a building facade, a sculpture, or a stage, are measured in detail. Techniques such as 3D scanning or photogrammetry help create an accurate digital model, allowing artists to plan how animations will interact with real-world geometry.
2. Designing the Visuals: The projected content is then created according to this mapped template. Artists may use software such as MadMapper, TouchDesigner, etc. to design visuals that emphasize the architecture’s textures, edges, and proportions. The imagery might be abstract and rhythmic, narrative and symbolic, or responsive to sound and motion.
3. Calibration and Projection: Projectors are positioned and calibrated so that every pixel aligns precisely with the intended part of the surface. Modern systems often use camera-based calibration and structured light to fine-tune accuracy, significantly reducing manual trial and error.
4. Performance and Interaction: Finally, the projection is activated – often in synchronization with soundscapes, live performance, or interactive sensors that react to audience movement or environmental conditions. The boundaries between digital image and physical space dissolve, creating a shared, immersive experience.

What distinguishes projection mapping from traditional media is its site-specificity. Each project is uniquely shaped by the architecture, the context, and the audience’s perspective. It is, in a sense, art that cannot exist independently of its environment.

Projects

Over the past decade, projection mapping has become a prominent part of contemporary art festivals worldwide. Examples include teamLab’s immersive installations in Tokyo and Singapore, Lux Helsinki’s annual light festival, and the Van Gogh Immersive Experience, where famous paintings are animated and projected onto entire rooms, surrounding visitors with flowing brushstrokes and color.

Klanglicht 2025

Among these examples, Klanglicht, held annually in Graz, offers a poetic form of light-based art. The festival transforms the city into a vast open-air gallery, merging sound, projection, and public architecture.

One installation that stood out to me was “Pochen” by Julian Hölscher, projected onto the city’s iconic Uhrturm. The work explored the relationship between rhythm and perception – oscillating between speed and stillness, between structured sound and chaotic noise, and between tension and release. I found myself focusing on the methods: how the visuals were mapped, how they corresponded to the tower’s geometry, and how the visuals might have been created. This project is what truly kick-started this blog post.

Another piece, “Vertigo,” while not strictly projection mapping, captivated me differently. It made me realize how much I enjoy visualized music. One of the visualizers (sadly I am unsure which one) resonated deeply – it showed sound the way I see it in my head.

References

Schmitt, D., Thébault, M., & Burczykowski, L. (Eds.). (2020). Image beyond the screen: projection mapping. John Wiley & Sons.

https://ocula.com/magazine/spotlights/teamlab-planets-tokyo-is-a-phenomenon-what-is-it

https://thearchivemagazine.com/teamlab-art-collective-interview-when-art-meets-technology

https://edge.worldgovernmentsummit.org