This series explores various literary visions of hell. The frames are integral parts of the artworks, carved and with figures toiling away inside them, initially inspired by Salgado's photographs of open-cast mining. In each of the texts, I've used the original language, not because I think people should read Ancient Greek or Old Norse, but as a symbol of all the knowledge that's hidden from us. Click on the images below for detailed pictures.

St John's Revelation in the original Greek. I happened to see a facsimile of a book owned by Herman Melville in which he'd annotated the pages, and I liked the idea of an 18th Century scholar scribbling his own notes here, searching for a deeper truth.

From the "Inferno", again, in Dante's original Italian, and adorned with alchemical symbols. The four figures in the frame are involved in an Escher like attempt to escape, not knowing they will each end up where they started.

From "Paradise Lost". The background illustrations are of the plants typically found in a physic garden, another element of mankind's continual search for hidden knowledge.

Aeneas makes his descent through the underworld, from "The Aenid" in the original Latin. The marginalia are taken from graffiti found at Pompeii and Herculaneum, moments captured forever by the volcanic eruption.

William Blake, visionary poet, and possibly the best guide to our modern approach to heaven and hell - we reach both by opening our minds to what lies without and within.

From the Old Norse text, Gylfaginning - Hel, daughter of Loki, is sent to Niflheim, which becomes the resting place of those who do not have a notable or heroic death.