Skip to main content

Man secretly snaps London commuters as Flemish paintings


I love a good bit of fun when it comes to my morning look around the web, and these images from Matt Crabtree's 16th Century Tube Passengers series are quite amusing. Matt secretly photographs people on their commute, creatively manipulates the pictures to look like Flemish paintings, and posts them online.

"All these shots are taken, retouched and sent from my phone whilst on the tube journey," he said. "I'm capturing the most of mundane commuter moments with a quiet, classical beauty."

Matt is a self-taught photographer and works as a creative director in a London ad agency, so the rest of his work is definitely worth checking out too.





Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Weirdly Charming

If you’re a fan of art that makes you do a double-take, you need to check out  Richard Brener . Based in the UK, Richard is an internationally collected artist who works primarily with ink, fineliners, and gouache. When you first see his pieces, they actually look pretty playful. Then you realize the entire canvas is packed with thousands of tiny, ghost-like shapes he calls "champs." They’re all squeezed together like commuters on a rush-hour train, and the level of detail is honestly mind-blowing. Richard spends hundreds of hours drawing these little guys over and over. It’s obsessive, very intentional, and a little bit wild. The cool part is that the longer you stare, the more the vibe shifts. Check out more photos below:

'Star Wars' cutaway illustrations by Hans Jenssen and Richard Chasemore

These illustrations by Hans Jenssen and Richard Chasemore explore the inner workings of some of the most famous Star Wars vehicles, from the AT-AT walker to the Millennium Falcon. The interesting part about these images is that they're completely hand drawn, with no help from a computer whatsoever. Prepare to marvel at these wonderful examples of sci-fi art!  [h/t: Galactic Academy ]

Where Bad Space and Good Music Collided

My first apartment was in Malate, and calling it “small” would be generous. I lived there with two girls and one guy, and to this day, I genuinely don’t know how we all fit. It felt like a magic trick. Or a health hazard. We were a musical mess. One roommate lived and breathed ’70s classics. Another was permanently blasting Korn and Slipknot. One survived solely on cheesy love songs. And me? I was floating somewhere between new wave and folk rock, pretending that made sense. Somehow, despite the noise and the chaos, we all lived together in this weird, mismatched harmony. No murders. No lawsuits. A win, honestly. My music taste now is nothing like it was in my twenties. Not even close. But I’ll always be grateful to Jacqueline for introducing me to this song in particular. It was playing when I woke up from a very memorable sleep in 2002. I was 21, half-awake, probably confused about life, and that song stuck. It still hasn’t let go.