


SFWoE is proud to showcase Peter Taschioglou's artwork.
Peter discovered his fascination with Science Fiction and Fantasy art on the Friday after Thanksgiving in 1977, as he sat mesmerized in front of the first Star Wars movie. His subsequent High-School-age dabbling with the likes of Frank Herbert's Dune, along with novels by Frederick Pohl, Jerry Pournell, H. R. Haldeman, and others then mutated this fascination into an irritating creative itch, which may only be soothed -- never cured. During these past 23 years since viewing George Lucas' motion picture, Peter has worked in over a dozen non-art-related occupations, while producing an ever-growing cache of drawings and paintings.
In the fall of 1996, Peter moved from Boston to Portland, Oregon in order to (though he did not know it at the time) search for "the most supportive wife an aspiring artist could ask for," whom he eventually found and married. He has recently also found the opportunity to attend The Art Institute in Portland, and to devote his free time to whatever art projects come his way.
(SFWoE Note: Peter has informed SFWoE that he welcomes all e-mailed comments on his illustrations, as well as any viewer solicitations for further artwork. To send a message to Peter, just click on the "Contact the Artist" button at the bottom of this page. Be sure to visit the SFWoE Artwork page periodically, as more illustrations by Peter Taschioglou will be posted in the near future, including illustrations of the 2000 SFWoE contest first place story.)

Below, Peter comments on his artwork, providing us with some of his ideas that went into creating the Hephaestus.

While reading John McCabe's "The Enemy God," I found myself particularly fascinated by two ideas: that of a "sleeg," and that of an interstellar vessel transporting 5000 human embryos to a distant star system. Although the former idea would be an interesting subject to illustrate, I decided the latter would more easily lend itself to an illustration to be posted on the SFWoE Website.
One objective I had in illustrating the Hephaestus was to give viewers who had not yet read the story a subconscious suspicion regarding the nature of the vessel's cargo. I hoped to accomplish this while giving the vessel a sense of functionality and survivability as it "sails the merciless vacuum between worlds."
My hope was that the seven spherically-shaped cargo "tanks," all attached to a common thread of several flexible-looking tubes, or duct work, that form the "spine" of the vessel might subtly conjure up an idea of larvae, or incubating "eggs" in viewers' minds. These spherical shapes also grant a delicate look to the vessel; I hoped to somewhat offset this by including the trussed substructure underneath the "spine." Housed within this would be the crew's quarters up forward, with repair equipment, spares, and loading/off-loading vehicles and facilities to the rear.
The forward sphere comprises the Bridge. The superstructure atop the "spine" toward the rear of the vessel is the "deadfall jump conversion generator," which of necessity is linked to the "subspace conventional drive" at the extreme rear. As for how the vessel is powered -- well, I was thinking Plasma Fusion when I drew it, but some viewers very likely will have a less dangerous, more economical power plant in mind!

Below, Peter comments on his artwork, providing us with some of his ideas that went into creating the Blessing Stone.

My first inclination in illustrating for "Blessing Stone" was to draw Dary running away from a grotesque, larger-than-life, twisted black boulder, hovering in midair behind him. I wanted to add Thanen to the illustration as well; after several sketches I concluded that there was probably a better way to do that.
After reading the story again, I decided to illustrate the moment when, "Thanen Mattius took Dary's hand in his own wrinkled and gnarled one. He placed the stone in Dary's palm." Here I was able to contrast Thanen's hands, weathered and scarred from years of Stone-seeking, with Dary's young hands, sickly from his being led astray by his parents' vanity.
While the story describes the stone as black, twisted, and jagged, I added touches of red and blue, in order to bring out its contrast with the fingers surrounding it. My aim was to portray these colors as reflections off the stone of its surroundings, but I ultimately traded realism in this for the sake of contrast. As for the hands, I drew them from a digital photograph of the hands of an elderly neighbor, who was handing a stone to her friend.
I loved Angella Taylor Lofthouse's "Blessing Stone," and enjoyed illustrating for it.

Below, Peter comments on his artwork for Larry Taylor's "Annie."

My first sketches for this story depicted Charles Darwin and Dickens in their final confrontation with the (really cool) mythical beasts of the story. I abandoned this track for two reasons. One was that I felt the reader could imagine a better Manticore than I could draw. The second was uttered by my wife Jennie, who pointed out that in depicting the climax of a story, one gives it away.
I found fascination with Taylor's description of the "greenhouse jungle gone awry," with its creeping vines, frogs, and snakes, which I interpreted as an outward manifestation of the conflict inside Darwin's mind and spirit. Taylor describes Darwin as caught between two conflicting worldviews, neither of which seems adequate to him. Perhaps Darwin's intense bereavement over the death of his daughter stir in him a sense of numinous awe, which strike him as incongruous with his own theoretical conclusions.
Ultimately, Darwin's main concern in the story comes down to simply maintaining his sanity. I thus considered the mythical beasts as outward manifestations, or metaphors for the insanity that threatens to engulf him. Ultimately he must kill these beings, or lose his mind. With this idea in mind, I depicted Charles Darwin wading alert and pistol-ready, through a morass of vegetation, teeming with reptiles and insects. His nemesis hangs above him as a gargoyle, its tail wrapped around a hanging vine!

Below, Peter comments on his artwork for "The Tile Merchant's Garden" by Theodora Goss.

I very much enjoyed "The Tile Merchant's Garden." I decided to illustrate the final moment in the story, where Twig beholds the now-free Spirit of Lisette with outstretched arms, as a gunshot fells him. At Twig's feet lies the ceramic debris of the statue that once held Lisette captive. He reaches toward her as he falls, and their hands...
I considered drawing Twig's Spirit following Lisette into the Forest, but I felt it would make the illustration too busy; moreover, the story leaves each reader to decide if that or something else happens next. A great story.

Below, is Peter's artwork for Julie Waight's 2002 winning story "The Overcoat."

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