Murder Series

Description

A group of crows is called a murder. Nobody knows exactly why, and honestly, that’s kind of perfect.

Theories range from their scavenging presence on battlefields to the old belief that crows would hold “trials” for members of their flock — gathering in a circle, cawing loudly, and occasionally driving one of their own away. Some scientists have tried to get the name changed. The crows, presumably, do not care.

What we do know is that crows are among the most intelligent animals on earth. They use tools. They solve puzzles. They recognize individual human faces and hold grudges for years. They bring gifts to people they like, alert their flock to danger, and have been documented mourning their dead. They adapt to every environment, thrive in every climate, and show up exactly where they please — including, in this case, Andy Carlson’s backyard.

The Murder Series began with a real murder — six crows who made themselves at home and never really left. Each 8×8 painting captures a different bird against a different electric background, the same subject transformed completely by color and energy. Same style. Completely different universe.

Together they’re a collection. Separately, each one is its own character.

This series is part of Andy Carlson’s ongoing exploration of wildlife as portraiture — the idea that animals don’t need to be mythologized to be worth paying attention to. Sometimes they just need the right background.

The Six Crows

Murder 1. Hot pink. Absolutely zero regrets. Murder 1 showed up first and made sure everyone knew it. Confident, watchful, and completely at ease in the chaos, this one has the energy of someone who’s been running the show since before you got here. The electric magenta background isn’t an accident — it’s a choice, and so is every decision Murder 1 has ever made. Crows are known to recognize human faces and remember them for years. Murder 1 definitely has yours on file.

Murder 2. Cool. Calculated. Aggressively unbothered. Murder 2 is the thinker of the group. While the others are out causing problems, this one is watching, cataloguing, filing information away for later. The deep electric blue background hums with the kind of quiet intelligence that makes you feel like you’re the one being studied. The brushwork behind the bird is loose and restless — like thoughts moving too fast to pin down. Crows have been observed solving multi-step puzzles that would challenge a five-year-old human. Murder 2 solved it before you finished reading that sentence.

Murder 3. Loud. Opinionated. Definitely saying something important. Murder 3 has something to say and isn’t waiting for permission to say it. Beak wide open against a splatter-flecked electric green background, this one brings the chaos energy the group needs — the one who sounds the alarm, starts the argument, and somehow always gets away with it. The orange paint flecks scattered across the canvas feel less like decoration and more like punctuation. Crows are capable of mimicking human speech. Whatever Murder 3 is saying, it probably sounds better in crow.

Murder 4. On fire. Literally the vibe. Murder 4 glows against a background that looks like the inside of a sunset that’s trying too hard, and somehow it works completely. This is the one with ambition — beak raised, eye sharp, always angled toward whatever’s next. The warmth radiating from the canvas isn’t just visual; it’s attitude. Murder 4 is going somewhere and will absolutely not be explaining why. Crows have been known to use passing cars as nutcrackers — dropping hard-shelled food in traffic lanes and waiting for cars to crack them open. Murder 4 invented this.

Murder 5. Chaotic good. Extremely suspicious. Against a screaming yellow background scattered with bold red marks that look suspiciously like evidence, Murder 5 stares up and sideways with the expression of someone who was definitely not just doing something. This is the trickster — the one who brings shiny objects as gifts, rearranges things just to see what happens, and maintains complete plausible deniability at all times. Crows have been documented bringing small gifts — buttons, bottle caps, bits of foil — to humans who feed them regularly. Whatever Murder 5 left on your porch, you should probably keep it.

Murder 6. Mysterious. Dripping. Unbothered by either of those things. Murder 6 showed up last and immediately became the most interesting one in the room. Against a deep teal background with black paint dripping down from the top like ink bleeding through water, this crow looks out with the quiet intensity of something ancient. The drips aren’t damage — they’re atmosphere. This is the one that shows up in the margins of old stories and the corners of dreams you can’t quite remember. Crows have been observed gathering around their dead in what researchers describe as “funerals” — large, silent congregations that study the fallen before dispersing. Murder 6 has attended several. It does not discuss them.