Buckle up for a wild ride through the artistic highlights of 2025, where creativity collided head-on with the raw, unfiltered chaos of our world—from viral dog memes to deep dives into war myths and digital privacy battles. These pieces didn't just reflect the year; they challenged us to see it differently. But here's where it gets controversial: art like this often sparks heated debates, questioning whether it's pushing boundaries or crossing lines. Ready to explore? Let's dive in and uncover the stories behind these standout projects that made 2025 unforgettable.
First up, we spotlighted the whirlwind surrounding DOGE, those hilarious yet absurd dog-themed tokens that took the internet by storm. But here's the part most people miss: amidst the memes, we delved into how these phenomena intersect with politics, like the apocalyptic and downright bizarre energy of Trump's first 100 days. Ariel Davis nailed it with her illustration depicting Elon Musk, Donald Trump, and JD Vance as a DOGE Cerberus—a mythical three-headed dog guarding the underworld. It's equal parts terrifying and ridiculous, capturing that vibe perfectly. And this is where opinions diverge: some see it as sharp satire, while others argue it trivializes serious political shifts. What do you think—does humor like this help us process chaos, or does it distract? We're obsessed with how it blends pop culture with real-world absurdity.
Next, we tackled the tangled narratives of the Vietnam War on its 50th anniversary since the fall of Saigon. Kristen Radtke crafted a split-screen hub that mirrored the conflicting stories and legends surrounding the conflict, bringing together all the articles in a visually striking way. Tran Nguyen provided brilliant illustrations that brought these myths to life, while engineer Graham MacAree made it all interactive and dynamic. For newcomers, think of it like a movie split into two perspectives—one heroic, the other haunting—showing how history is never just one story. This package invites reflection on how we remember wars, and subtly raises questions about whose version gets told. Controversial take: in an era of 'alternative facts,' is highlighting multiple narratives a way to heal divisions, or does it just fuel more confusion?
Shifting gears to a deeply personal and timely issue: the online privacy challenges faced by trans individuals. In a world that's increasingly frightening, Cath Virginia designed a package that evoked otherworldly, unpredictable futures—neither too optimistic nor bleak. It's a nod to hope without false promises, emphasizing that trans people will be key in shaping what's next. We collaborated with artist Taehee Yoonseul for looping background animations and licensed Sasha Cherepanov's Transgender Grotesk font, which added a layer of elegance and identity to the design. For beginners, imagine this as a visual metaphor for trans experiences: fluid, ever-changing, and resilient against the shadows of surveillance and discrimination. This piece sparks debate—should art focus on empowerment, or does it risk romanticizing struggles? We'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments.
Then there's the circus of Luigi Mangione's pretrial hearing, a courtroom drama filled with fans and chaos. Editor Sarah Jeong made a genius call by assigning Molly Crabapple to capture it live. Unsure if she'd even get inside, Crabapple turned the courthouse hallway into her canvas, sketching hordes of spectators and supporters in real time. Kristen Radtke, as creative director, oversaw this gem, which felt like a live comic strip unfolding amidst legal tension. It's a reminder of how art can thrive in unpredictability, and it raises eyebrows: in a justice system often criticized for bias, does depicting the 'fan side' humanize or sensationalize?
We also explored the pervasive world of influencers and their growing creep into every corner of the internet. Kristen Radtke designed a bold, eye-popping scheme for the hub, mimicking TikTok's endless scroll, with animated collages from various artists that gave each story its own personality while tying them together. Think of influencers as modern-day celebrities who shape trends and opinions—sometimes for good, sometimes not. This series highlighted their reach, and controversially, it begs the question: is this digital fame empowering voices, or is it just another form of manipulation? The part most people miss is how these collages blend humor with critique, making complex ideas accessible.
For the gift guides, we got hands-on and creative, building a physical kaleidoscope setup for photography. Amelia Holowaty Krales constructed a simple mirrored structure over a large TV, where she and Cath Virginia positioned standout items inside, capturing mesmerizing, camera-only effects with custom backgrounds. It was the highlight of the studio year for Amelia, blending tech and art in a fun, tangible way. For those new to this, a kaleidoscope is like a toy that reflects patterns infinitely—here, it symbolized the endless variety of gifts, from gadgets to essentials. No shortcuts; pure, playful innovation.
Matt Huynh's comic about a US military psychological operation during the Vietnam War stands out as a gut-wrenching masterpiece. It details how American forces used tape recordings of supposed Vietnamese 'ghosts' to terrify Viet Cong soldiers—a lesser-known historical tactic that's both eerie and tragic. Huynh's emotive brushwork and storytelling prowess make it one of The Verge's best comics ever, weaving personal narrative with global history. And this is the part most people miss: how art can unearth forgotten stories, prompting us to question the ethics of such operations. Controversial interpretation: was this a clever strategy, or a form of psychological warfare that echoes modern tactics?
Jovana Mugosa's crime noir-style illustrations for the story of an Iranian military officer targeted by government-funded kidnappers immersed readers in a shadowy world of predator and prey. The dark olive green hues, lavender accents, and grainy textures pulled you right into the narrative, highlighting the vast surveillance networks tracking dissidents. Cath Virginia praised how it captured the tension, and for beginners, this is like a detective novel brought to life—exploring themes of exile, danger, and international intrigue. But here's where it gets controversial: in an age of global spying, does art like this raise awareness or sensationalize real threats? It invites debate on privacy vs. security.
Ian Woods' collaged portraits for the piece on fatherhood through Final Fantasy added a handmade, organic touch. Blending game art with real-life photos of Joseph Earl Thomas and his kids, it perfectly framed the fusion of virtual and actual worlds. Cath Virginia adored the seamless integration, and it's a great example for newcomers: think of it as scrapbooking memories with digital twists, showing how games can mirror family bonds. Subtle controversy: does this romanticize escapism, or celebrate its role in modern parenting?
Amelia Holowaty Krales photographed women from Silicon Valley's early fabrication factories, exposing the toxic conditions that harmed workers and their families—a cautionary tale for today's chip production. Grateful for her work on Justine Calma's story, it humanizes the often-overlooked costs of tech innovation. Expanding on this, imagine factories where chemicals lingered, affecting health long-term; these images serve as a stark reminder and call to action.
Finally, for the 'infinite fringe' concept—a confusing swirl of racist conspiracy memes—Tina Nguyen's reporting was paired with Cath Virginia's visuals that literally depicted the addictive, inescapable pull. It's like falling down a rabbit hole of online misinformation, and the art made the abstract tangible. Kristen Radtke summed it up simply: 'The headline. The image. Perfect.' Benny Douet's image of JD Vance and Mark Zuckerberg at the Bitcoin Conference captured the 'nightmare blunt rotation' vibe—one of Cath Virginia's favorites, blending politics, tech, and absurdity.
There you have it—a year of art that mirrored 2025's highs, lows, and hot-button issues. But here's the big question: in a world full of division, does art unite us, or does it deepen the rifts? Share your take in the comments—do you agree that these pieces challenge norms, or do they sometimes go too far? We're eager to hear differing opinions and spark a conversation!
