Shaft VI , 1966-68

Ink on paper, 80 cm by 63 cm

Born Feb. 5 in mountainous Chur, Switzerland, in 1940, H.R. Giger lived in an idyllic childhood in one of the most beautiful places on Earth. But it harbored forbidding structures and estranged elements that left an impression on a child subjected to night terrors and panic attacks.

Giger even found horror at home, where his cellar would morph into “a monstrous labyrinth, where all kinds of dangers lay in wait for me.” It also birthed stark, unyielding masses like Shaft VI (above), one of many shafts that stretched for Giger into unrelenting nightmare.

In 1962, Giger left Chur for Zurich, where his mostly ink-and-oil drawings and paintings featured such graphic isolation. The influence of German expressionist horror is powerful here. Later, Giger’s work would fully morph into the cyborg sex and horror that currently defines his most identifiable pieces.

ELP I (Brain Salad Surgery) , 1973

Acrylic on paper, 34 cm by 34 cm

Emerson, Lake & Palmer’s classic 1973 concept album marked Giger’s first official crossover into pop culture, bringing the artist’s dark, destabilizing work to a whole new audience.

It was a suitable enough entry: According to Wikipedia, the title of ELP’s LP was a euphemism for fellatio, and Giger’s work was deliberately, mechanically sexual.

Recently, both lithographs created for the album, Work #216 and Work #217 , which together formed a fold-out sleeve cover, mysteriously disappeared while on loan to the 2005 Giger retrospective at the National Technical Museum of Prague. The artist has put up a $10,000 reward for information leading to the works’ recovery, adding deeper intrigue to an already iconic work of art.

HR Giger Li I , 1974

Photogravure, 70 cm by 79 cm

Two of Giger’s most recognizable works, Li I (above) and Li II , both created in 1974, have since been reproduced on everything from posters to snowboards. The first was torn to pieces by Li Tobler, Giger’s lover and an actress, who complained that it made her look ugly. But it was eventually pieced together to become the famed lithograph that it is today.

One wonders whether Tobler, who forged a nine-year relationship with Giger before committing suicide in 1975, would have stayed her hand if she knew how much longevity the famous works she modeled for would experience.

Whatever that alternative history would provide, Giger’s own corner of the universe was galvanized by these two pieces. In fact, if you look closely at Li I, you can see the beginnings of the equally immortal poster for Alien . Just follow the field of alien eggs.

Spell IV , 1977

Acrylic on paper on wood, 240 cm by 420 cm

Although it is Giger’s third art book, Necronomicon remains his most influential. Published by Sphinx Verlag in 1977, the book veered from H.P. Lovecraft-influenced phantasmagoria — like that found in Spell IV , above, the painting that served as Necronomicon ‘s cover — to the uncanny creatures of Necronomicon IV , which later transformed into the monsters of Ridley Scott’s foundational sci-horror classic Alien .

The book broke open the mainstream floodgates for Giger. In fact, it was so popular that it inspired a sequel, Necronomicon 2 , published in 1985 by Switzerland’s Edition C. In 1993, the original H.R. Giger’s Necronomicon was reissued, this time with additional Alien designs. By then, Giger was a household name.

Necronom IV , 1976

Acrylic on paper on wood, 100 cm by 150 cm

When Dan O’Bannon, the brainiac behind the 1974 indie sci-fi classic Dark Star , turned on director Ridley Scott to Giger’s Necronomicon , the book stuck to Scott’s brain like an alien egg-spawn. Scott was particularly mesmerized by Necronom IV (above) and Necronom V, which filled the void of space in his film-in-progress in a horrifying, revelatory way.

“I realized we had the ability to create a monster that would be superior to most of those from the past,” Scott wrote in the introduction to H.R. Giger’s Film Design Book . “I had never been so sure of anything in my life.”

He was right as a reign of terror. Scott went immediately to work with Giger, whose fearsome creatures eventually became the acidic backbone of the Alien franchise, which has since given monstrous birth to several films, books, comics, games and much more. The films alone have grossed more than a $1 billion worldwide.

HR Giger Harkonnen Environment, 1981

H.R. Giger Museum, Gruyères, Switzerland

Photo: Matthias Belz © 2007

After Alien detonated in 1978, in the process redefining fear in sci-fi cinema, Giger’s film resume began to catch fire. Since then, he has created designs for films in the Alien , Species , Poltergeist 2 and even Batman franchises. (Perhaps unwisely, the studio passed on using Giger’s Batmobile design.) That doesn’t include Giger’s own short films from the ’60s or various other cinema that appropriated his time and work.

But before Alien touched down, Giger already had created designs for what would become David Lynch’s film adaptation of Frank Herbert’s Dune . The designs were created in 1976 when cult-film auteur Alejandro Jodorowsky was slated to direct the blockbuster, but were passed over when Lynch took over.

But the disturbing imagery endured in one way or another, including furniture design. Giger’s Harkonnen Environment (above) add dimension not just to this missed opportunity, but also your room or museum for the right price.

Landscape XX , 1973

Acrylic on paper on wood, 70 cm by 100 cm

When Dead Kennedys front man Jello Biafra first saw Giger’s graphically but mechanically sexual Work 219: Landscape XX, he had the kind of epiphany reserved for punk smartasses decrying conformity and consumption.

“I was totally blown away the minute I saw it,” Biafra told Wired.com by phone. “I thought: ‘Wow! That is the Reagan era on parade. Right there! That shows how Americans treat each other now.’ He captured it in a nutshell.”

He instantly decided to make Giger’s artwork the cover of Dead Kennedys’ 1985 release Frankenchrist , to the chagrin of, well, pretty much everyone. That includes Biafra’s bandmates, biz partners and more. But after Biafra compromised and inserted — pun intended — the piece (known more colloquially as Penis Landscape ) into Frankenchrist , he and Michael Bonanno, the former manager of Biafra’s San Francisco-based label Alternative Tentacles, were quickly charged with distributing obscenity to minors.

The absurd ensuing trial nearly bankrupted his label, but Biafra would probably do it all over again, he explained by phone to Wired.com.

“I first saw it in late summer or early fall of 1985 when a friend showed me Giger’s work in a magazine and said, ‘You really gotta look at this guy. Look at this work!'” Biafra said.

“It occurred to me that I hadn’t finished recording all the vocals for Frankenchrist, and if I tweaked the lyrics here and there, its songs might fit more together as a concept album. I’m not sure that would have clicked in my mind if I hadn’t had that spark of inspiration from seeing Giger’s work for the first time.”

H.R. Giger Bar, 2003

Gruyères, Switzerland

Photo: Annie Bertram © 2008

It seemed a no-brainer to take Giger’s fearsome architecture into the material world. But after the artist’s first total environment, known as the Giger Bar, opened in Tokyo in 1988, trouble quickly followed.

“The Giger Bar in Tokyo was actually created against my will,” Giger wrote about the launch on his official site. “It seems the bar was tailor-made for the underworld.”

Nevertheless, it found its fair share of fandom.

“I loved the first Giger Bar in Tokyo,” cyberpunk pioneer William Gibson tweeted, in response to a query from Wired.com. “My kind of Disney!”

Although the Tokyo iteration of the Giger Bar closed down, two in Switzerland survive to terrorize customers downing chicken nuggets that suddenly taste even weirder. One is in Chur, the city of Giger’s birth, and the other exists in Gruyères, as part of the H.R. Giger Museum, the most extensive repository of the artist’s work, under the directorship of Carmen Scheifel Giger, the artist’s wife.

Birth Machine , 2000

Aluminum, 200 cm by 140 cm by 25 cm, edition of 5

Photo: Matthias Belz

Although he is more famous for his airbrushed work, Giger has deviated quite nicely into furniture, sculpture and more hefty design. Plus, he’s got a vast personal collection of artwork, his own and that of other artists, including Salvador Dali, begging for a dedicated location.

In 1998, that location became the H.R. Giger Museum in Gruyères, where interested parties can view everything from his masterworks to his mammoth Birth Machine . The museum also features the best of the two operational Giger Bars.

But Giger’s work hits the road often as well, especially lately. Over the last three years, a Giger retrospective has shown at museums around the world. A redesign of his official website is in the works in hopes of keeping up with all the activity, which has yet to fully cease although Giger turns 70 this year. Maybe he’ll finally land his first Giger-Land for his 80th.

“I sure hope he gets his wish someday and the town allows him to build a theme park,” Dead Kennedy’s leader Biafra told Wired.com. “He had a train at the back of his house, which went into a cave that looks more than a little like a vagina, then back out again into the house before returning. It had fallen into disrepair by the time I got there, so I didn’t get to ride it.”

H.R. Giger guitars by Ibanez

Giger always has attracted music makers and fans like flies. From Emerson, Lake & Palmer’s Brain Salad Surgery to Debbie Harry’s Koo Koo and outward to albums from Danzig and more, Giger’s artwork has added impact to the work of musicians who admire him.

That includes guitarists in love with Giger’s biomechanics. Ibanez Guitars has released a series of axes using Giger’s hallmark design, including the engraved Ibanez/H.R. Giger SHRG1Z above. But they’re not alone in their affinity for his legacy.