Keyboard Kimura Reviews: The Fine Art of Violence, Vol. 3 by Chris Rini
Latest in the artist's outstanding series raises the bar again
In a space filled with sameness, Chris Rini brings the MMA world something different with alarming, impressive frequency.
His MMA Squared series on Bloody Elbow offers a Saturday morning comics look at whatever latest story in the sport has piqued his interest and poked at his creative center, prompting him to pick up the tools of his trade so that he can sketch, refine, and colour in a panel or two that perfectly distills that much-discussed news item in just a handful of wonderfully creative and vibrant pictures.
And on fight nights, he can be found on his Twitter profile, offering up sketches of the action transpiring inside the Octagon.
But the most impressive of the creative differences Rini brings to the MMA space is his annual collection The Fine Art of Violence. It’s an artistic representation of what transpired throughout the year — sketches and drawings and portraits by Rini and others immortalizing some of the most memorable moments and biggest names from the previous 12 months, accompanied by brilliant essays from a handful of sharp minds plucked from various corners of the sport.
Volume 3 is out now, and like the previous two editions, it’s an absolute must-have for anyone that fancies themselves a combat sports connoisseur.
I was late to the party.
I didn’t purchase Volume 1 when I was first published — unsure that I needed another book about MMA on my shelf, unconvinced that the anthology collection was the kind of thing that I was really going to find value in because how good could it really be?
I was finally able to order a copy this year, as the re-issue last year sold out before I could get my regretful hands on one.
How good could it be?
How about so good that flipping through the pages for the first time made me ache with jealousy towards the people asked to contribute to the book because even on first blush I could tell it was one of those things that you just want to be able to show people you’ve had a small part in creating?
Volume 2 made me a convert.
I won’t miss another volume as long as Rini keeps making them, and I will continue to be a patron of the bearded artist even longer, hopeful that we could coax one more final volume out of him even after he tells us all he’s done several decades from now. (No pressure, Chris)
A few weeks from now, when I set up the office in our new house, I’ll finally be able to stand all three volumes next to one another, displayed prominently in my work space, no further than arm’s reach away because each piece of art contained with their pages is worthy of multiple viewings and dissections, with the essays standing as the kind of things I want to read in those moments where I know I haven’t been doing my best work and need the incredible efforts of Julie Kedzie, Josh Rosenblatt, Sean Sheehan, Eric Stinton, and Dr. Tunisha Singleton to fill me with life anew.
There is an ineffable feeling of seeing memorable moments from the last year captured in a simple sketch — and I don’t mean simple as in easy, because capturing these moments and conveying everything about them in sharp collections of lines and shading is far from easy. Flipping through the chapters, which are broken down by weight class, you can identify title fights and incredible finishes or gutsy performances from a single picture; the action rendered perfectly, the participants captured in a familiar pose.
You get transported to the second Rose Namajunas kicked Zhang Weili upside the head to reclaim the strawweight title or Chris Barnett’s “Fat Man Flip” following his win over Gian Villante at Madison Square Garden. Even though it’s only the final pose — Barnett seated, legs outstretched, hands raised triumphantly — the video highlight of the jubilant flip that led to the still moment on the page instantly playing in your head.
Rini produced much of the artwork, though he is joined by Marco Bucci and Juni Ba, who each offer breathtaking pieces of their own throughout. There are imagines in these pages that I want blown up, framed, and hung on my office wall, alongside the MMA images by BUA that are soon to go that route.
They really should be on display in a gallery, as a collection, fetching far more than consumers are paying to have them all bound together alongside the essays in this latest instalment.
The Fine Art of Violence, Vol. 3 is a wonderful addition to the series — as magnificent as the first two offerings with new variations, new voices, and new visuals that make it stand out on its own as well.
It’s a hurricane of fresh air in an often stale space and the kind of unique, creative, original work that every combat sports fan should consider getting, even if, like me, they’re arriving late to the party.
Rini’s passion for his craft and this sport saturate the pages of this series — you can feel the care, the focus, the love that has gone into creating this marvellous time capsule.
It’s inspiring and beautiful.
Go get a copy.
Sign up for Chris Rini’s Patreon in order to secure a copy of The Fine Art of Violence, Vol. 4, which is already being created. You can also follow him on Twitter.