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Year: 2024
Medium: Acrylic on canvas
Dimensions: 30 × 48 inches
Artist: Andre Alsup
Inspiration: Friedrich Nietzsche, loneliness, masculinity, and the monsters we create.
Standing outside Denver International Airport is a 32-foot-tall blue horse with glowing red eyes, exposed muscles, and an appearance that looks like something straight out of hell. Officially named Mustang, but affectionately nicknamed Blucifer, the sculpture has one of the darkest backstories of any public artwork in Colorado.
In 2006, artist Luis Jiménez was working on the massive sculpture when a section broke loose and fell on him, severing an artery in his leg and ultimately killing him. His family and studio staff finished the sculpture after his death, and it was installed outside the airport in 2008. There's something haunting about the idea of an artist being killed by his own creation. A monster he spent years bringing to life ultimately became the thing that took his.
I painted my own interpretation of Blucifer in 2024 during a time when I was struggling with loneliness, masculinity, and the kind of man I wanted to become. I felt like I needed to be stronger, tougher, and more masculine, almost as though becoming something intimidating would somehow protect me from feeling so vulnerable.
Written beside the horse is a quote from philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche:
“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.”
That quote really stuck with me. I was so focused on becoming stronger that I started questioning what strength even meant. Was being masculine about being intimidating? Was it about hiding emotions, never showing weakness, or becoming someone who couldn't be hurt? And if I kept trying to turn myself into something harder, would I eventually lose the parts of myself that made me who I was?
My version of Blucifer exaggerates everything. His muscles, his ribs, his sharp teeth, his glowing red eyes, and even his very obvious anatomy. He's aggressive, ridiculous, powerful, and a little disturbing. There's humor in how absurd he looks, but underneath that is something much more personal.
I think that's what drew me to Blucifer in the first place. He's a creature that looks terrifying on the outside, but his existence is tied to a very human tragedy. I could relate to the contradiction of wanting to appear powerful while feeling completely vulnerable.
This painting is about the monsters we create, both physically and within ourselves. It's about loneliness, insecurity, and the pressure to become someone stronger than the person we already are.
And maybe the real danger isn't the monster staring back at us. Maybe it's spending so much time trying to become one that we forget we were human to begin with.
Year: 2024
Medium: Acrylic on canvas
Dimensions: 30 × 48 inches
Artist: Andre Alsup
Inspiration: Friedrich Nietzsche, loneliness, masculinity, and the monsters we create.
Standing outside Denver International Airport is a 32-foot-tall blue horse with glowing red eyes, exposed muscles, and an appearance that looks like something straight out of hell. Officially named Mustang, but affectionately nicknamed Blucifer, the sculpture has one of the darkest backstories of any public artwork in Colorado.
In 2006, artist Luis Jiménez was working on the massive sculpture when a section broke loose and fell on him, severing an artery in his leg and ultimately killing him. His family and studio staff finished the sculpture after his death, and it was installed outside the airport in 2008. There's something haunting about the idea of an artist being killed by his own creation. A monster he spent years bringing to life ultimately became the thing that took his.
I painted my own interpretation of Blucifer in 2024 during a time when I was struggling with loneliness, masculinity, and the kind of man I wanted to become. I felt like I needed to be stronger, tougher, and more masculine, almost as though becoming something intimidating would somehow protect me from feeling so vulnerable.
Written beside the horse is a quote from philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche:
“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.”
That quote really stuck with me. I was so focused on becoming stronger that I started questioning what strength even meant. Was being masculine about being intimidating? Was it about hiding emotions, never showing weakness, or becoming someone who couldn't be hurt? And if I kept trying to turn myself into something harder, would I eventually lose the parts of myself that made me who I was?
My version of Blucifer exaggerates everything. His muscles, his ribs, his sharp teeth, his glowing red eyes, and even his very obvious anatomy. He's aggressive, ridiculous, powerful, and a little disturbing. There's humor in how absurd he looks, but underneath that is something much more personal.
I think that's what drew me to Blucifer in the first place. He's a creature that looks terrifying on the outside, but his existence is tied to a very human tragedy. I could relate to the contradiction of wanting to appear powerful while feeling completely vulnerable.
This painting is about the monsters we create, both physically and within ourselves. It's about loneliness, insecurity, and the pressure to become someone stronger than the person we already are.
And maybe the real danger isn't the monster staring back at us. Maybe it's spending so much time trying to become one that we forget we were human to begin with.