Born to Draw Horror: The Art of Frazer Irving

I still remember the first time I encountered Frazer Irving’s art. It was in the pages of 2000AD, the legendary British sci-fi comic anthology, and the story was Necronauts.

Irving’s atmospheric and unnerving visuals immediately grabbed me. It wasn’t just the macabre subject matter of the story that drew me in; it was the way Irving’s art conveyed a sense of impending doom, otherworldliness, and tension. I had never seen horror rendered quite like that in a comic before.

Over the years, as I followed his career through various comic book genres—sci-fi, horror, and even superheroes—I came to realize that Frazer Irving wasn’t just a comic book artist; he was born to draw horror.

Irving’s Unique Approach to Horror

Irving’s work isn’t your typical comic book fare. His use of light, shadow, and stark contrasts gives his illustrations a haunting, otherworldly feel. There’s something almost dreamlike—or nightmarish—about his work. Whether it’s an eerie splash page or a close-up panel of a terrified character, his art has the unique ability to evoke a visceral reaction. The figures in his comics often feel like they exist in a space that’s both familiar and alien at the same time, creating a sense of unease that works so well in horror comics.

It’s in his ability to manipulate light and dark, to create mood through these contrasts, where Irving’s genius really shines. He understands horror on a primal level, not just through the monsters he draws but in the way he manipulates the reader’s emotional state with his visuals. That’s what hooked me with Necronauts, and it’s something that continues to draw me to his work to this day.

The Thirteenth Floor: A Descent into Madness

One of the recent standout projects that reminded me of Irving’s flair for horror is his work on The Thirteenth Floor, a revival of the 1980s British strip that centered around a malevolent AI controlling an apartment building. When you give an artist like Frazer Irving a narrative that revolves around psychological horror and technology, you get magic.

Irving brought a renewed sense of dread and claustrophobia to The Thirteenth Floor. The idea of being trapped in an AI-generated nightmare world was already terrifying, but Irving’s art pushed it further. His surrealistic, disjointed layouts mirrored the chaos of the plot perfectly. The artificial and oppressive world of The Thirteenth Floor seemed to drip off the pages, creating a palpable sense of unease that stuck with me long after I closed the comic.

What makes Irving’s art so potent in horror is his ability to visualize madness—not just through grotesque monsters but in the subtle breakdown of reality. In The Thirteenth Floor, reality itself becomes fluid and terrifying under Irving’s pen.

Klarion the Witch Boy: Horror in the Superhero World

One of Irving’s most notable collaborations came when he teamed up with Grant Morrison for Seven Soldiers of Victory, particularly the series Klarion the Witch Boy. Morrison’s wild, surreal scripts seem to bring out the best in Irving, and Klarion is no exception.

Superhero comics don’t often lend themselves to horror, but Irving’s work on Klarion feels like an exception. Klarion’s world is dark, twisted, and steeped in the occult, and Irving makes that come alive in a way that is both grotesque and beautiful. The story dives deep into magic, witchcraft, and ancient horrors, and Irving delivers an aesthetic that feels both classic and modern. The pale, almost sickly hues of his color palette for Klarion’s world make you feel like you’re gazing into something cursed.

But what truly stands out in Klarion is Irving’s character design. Klarion himself, with his pale skin and sharp, angular features, feels like a character ripped out of a Gothic fairy tale. The witches, monsters, and creatures that inhabit his world feel simultaneously terrifying and strangely alluring, a testament to Irving’s ability to blend horror with beauty.

It’s no surprise that Klarion the Witch Boy remains a fan favorite, and a lot of that love can be attributed to the way Irving brought Morrison’s wild ideas to life in such a vivid and terrifying manner.

Batman: The Ghosts in the Shadows

Irving’s foray into the Batman universe further solidified his place as one of the masters of comic book horror. He’s worked on several Batman-related stories, but one that stands out is Batman and Robin #13-16, also penned by Grant Morrison. This arc saw the duo tackle the Batman mythos from a perspective that leaned heavily into horror.

Gotham City has always been a character in its own right, often portrayed as a dark, grimy, and oppressive place. But in Irving’s hands, Gotham becomes something more—it becomes a haunted city. His depiction of the city is dripping in shadows and fog, with the buildings themselves feeling like they’re hiding sinister secrets. Irving’s Gotham feels alive in the way that only a horror artist could make it.

In his Batman work, especially with villains like Professor Pyg, Irving pushes the grotesque to its limits. The violence feels raw, but it’s not just the brutality that stands out; it’s the psychological horror. In Irving’s hands, Batman isn’t just fighting physical foes; he’s constantly at odds with the ghosts, demons, and madness that seem to infest Gotham. It’s horror on both a psychological and supernatural level, and Irving’s work here blurs the lines between the two beautifully.

Annihilator: Cosmic Horror at its Finest

One of Irving’s most ambitious projects came in the form of Annihilator, another collaboration with Morrison. Annihilator isn’t horror in the traditional sense, but it’s deeply unsettling. It’s cosmic horror, the kind of horror that makes you feel small in the face of the universe’s incomprehensible vastness.

Annihilator tells the story of a washed-up Hollywood screenwriter who finds himself entangled with a character from his own script—a character who claims to be real. The story takes us on a wild ride through time, space, and different realities, and it’s Irving’s art that makes it all work.

The imagery in Annihilator is mind-bending, with Irving creating entire realities that feel off-kilter, wrong, and yet completely engrossing. His use of color in this series is especially noteworthy, as he paints space and cosmic entities with an almost neon, otherworldly glow that contrasts sharply with the dark, oppressive tone of the story.

But beneath all the cosmic madness, there’s an underlying sense of dread that permeates the entire book. Even when the story dives into the fantastic, there’s always a lingering feeling of horror—like the universe itself is watching, waiting to consume you. That’s what Irving brings to Annihilator—the sense that reality itself is fragile, and what lies beyond it is incomprehensible and terrifying.

A Flair for Terror

Frazer Irving’s career spans a wide range of genres, but it’s clear that horror is where he truly excels. His ability to create mood, atmosphere, and emotional depth through his art makes him one of the most distinctive voices in the comic book world today. Whether he’s working on sci-fi epics, superhero stories, or straight-up horror, there’s always that underlying sense of dread in his work. It’s in the shadows, in the way light plays off his characters, in the subtle breakdown of reality that pervades his panels.

For me, Frazer Irving was a revelation. From Necronauts to The Thirteenth Floor, Klarion, Batman, and Annihilator, his work has consistently pushed the boundaries of what horror can be in comics. He doesn’t rely on cheap scares or gore; instead, he creates a world that feels inherently wrong, a world where the monsters are just as much in your head as they are on the page.

That’s what makes Frazer Irving’s art so special. It’s not just that he draws horror well—it’s that he understands it on a fundamental level. He knows how to make you uncomfortable, how to get under your skin, and how to keep you coming back for more.