Obscure Art: Love blossoms in shared passion of turning roadkill into art

Instead of wrinkling their noses at the sight of roadkill, a Port Alfred couple lovingly dissects and restructures rats, snakes and birds, turning them into poignant works of art.

Graphic designers Tarrin Henegan, 37, and her partner Roché “Roach” du Plessis, 42, met and bonded over small corpses and now spend their time giving them another life in the form of sought-after jewellery and other fascinating collectibles.

By meticulously cleaning minuscule snake vertebrae, endearing crab claws and petite rat skulls and arranging them artfully into shapes pleasing to the eye, the couple pay homage to nature.

Their label, Obscure Art, first came into being when Du Plessis was living in Observatory, in Cape Town, 11 years ago and came across a dead rat.

“I didn’t feel right just walking on by and disregarding that little decaying rodent.

“I decided to bag the rat up and ‘bring it back to life’, so to speak.

“I’ve always been intrigued and fascinated by not only the endless beauty and wonders of life around us, but by death as well,” Du Plessis said.

As a child growing up on the outskirts of the suburbs, Du Plessis would wander about gathering skulls and bones from the veld.

“So when I decided to pick up that rat that day in the city, I tapped into a youthful fascination that I had as a child and my creativity surged.

“With the help of my housemate at the time, Obscure Art was born in Cape Town in 2015, but after two years of being a sideline hobby, it had flatlined since I moved back to Gauteng and got sucked into the Jozi hustle.”

New life was breathed into Du Plessis’s erstwhile side hustle when he met Henegan, who was searching for skulls and bones to paint on and was introduced to him as a potential source.

“I had recently been gifted a beautiful skull, which I painted for a friend, and I instantly fell in love with its texture and form.

“I was deeply intrigued by the idea of working with nature in this way and wanted to explore it further,” she said.

Though Du Plessis was reluctant to part with his tiny creature skull collection, Henegan was intrigued by him and his hobby.

“I had never met anyone who would so casually pick up anything dead.

“Not long after, I came across a dead bird and asked him for advice on how to process it — because if he wasn’t going to sell me any skulls, I was definitely going to figure out how to clean my own.

“The first piece I ever made was a small snake bone mandala.

“Our neighbour’s dog had killed a ringhals and she gifted the snake’s remains to us.

“Roach cleaned it, and afterward, I began arranging the bones into a mandala.”

As a henna artist of many years, Henegan noticed many similarities between henna and bone mandalas.

“Both involve symmetry, detail, and a natural flow that comes together as you work.

“There’s something meditative about both processes — slow, intentional, and full of quiet focus.

“Henna fades with time, and bones are what’s left behind after death.

“In their own ways, both art forms speak to the cycle of life, the beauty of impermanence, and the importance of honouring what’s here, even if only for a while.”

Two years ago, the couple swapped Gauteng for a more serene life in Port Alfred.

“We were living in Benoni, feeling constrained by the sheer number of people, the pollution, the noise, and a lingering sense of unease.

“We were tired of feeling afraid and disconnected. What we truly longed for was a calmer, slower way of life — something more grounded, more connected to nature.

“At first, we considered moving abroad. But then a family member who lives in Port Alfred suggested we visit.

“The moment we arrived, we didn’t need any convincing. We fell in love instantly and it’s been home since,” Henegan said.

Now, when people ask about her art, she relishes their reactions.

“I get a kick out of their reaction when I reply that we create fine art out of found dead animal remains.

“They’re always taken back, until they see it for themselves and they realise it’s a lot more elegant than what their minds concocted.

“It’s a display of nature and its beautiful intricacies. It’s an exhibit of organic architecture that for a moment allows people to relish in the beauty of it, without getting swept up in their own fears and concerns surrounding death.

“There’s something about bone that just evokes feelings of stability, structure and safety.”

The couple create a wide range of nature-inspired, handcrafted pieces including bone mandalas — intricate arrangements of bones laid out in meditative, geometric designs — mosaic-like artworks made from carefully curated natural elements such as shells, bones, feathers, flora, insect parts and electroformed copper jewellery.

“We use a process called electroforming to turn found natural specimens into wearable copper pieces.

“These include moth and butterfly pendants, snake vertebrae, flowers, crab claws, and more,” Henegan said.

Delicate and artistically arranged butterflies and insects are preserved beneath glass or in frames and the couple also clean and reconstruct entire skeletons of small animals, sometimes for display, sometimes as pet memorials.

Henegan also uses thrifted books and other materials, creating collage artworks and whimsical scenes.

“Renaissance women often become fairy-like beings with butterfly or insect wings, sometimes featuring bird or rat skulls as their faces.”

When the couple found a large butterfly collection from the 1970s in a thrift shop, they lovingly preserved the specimens by creating a range of butterfly earrings and pendants.

“We felt a duty to honour and preserve the specimens,” Henegan said, before emphasising Obscure Art’s unwavering principle: “Everything we work with is found dead. Always.”

In addition to preserving the remains of little creatures, the couple also lean into the ethos of sustainability by repurposing materials to produce their art pieces.

“You’ll never catch us walking past a thrift or charity shop without popping in.

“Many of the frames we use are second-hand, and we make a conscious effort to source most of our materials this way.

“Aside from some essentials such as glue and paint, almost everything we use is thrifted, which includes much of our packaging as well.

“Much of our items and jewellery are packaged in thrifted cookie tins and envelopes made from old books.

“Instead of just a plain old cardboard box or white envelopes, receiving artwork from us can be an immersive experience.

“It’s part of our philosophy — reclaim, reuse, and honour what already exists.”

The word “honour”’ often crops up in their lexicon because it is central to the respect they have for creatures that have lived.

“Whether humans forget it or not, we are still a part of nature,” Du Plessis said.

“We are nature. Yet we’ve become so disconnected that we don't recognise how disconnected we truly are.

“We flood the world with synthetic fibres and plastics and love our mass-produced gadgets and fake reality TV, but cringe or reel at the sight of a dead animal or maggots. That’s real life. Rot, decay, it’s all a part of the cycle.

“And though it may not be pretty, its value and its reason is beautiful. 

“I hate that an animal can get knocked over by a car, left to die beside a road and be discarded.

“Yet the irony is that the very same person that was behind the wheel may see our work, and even appreciate it, completely unaware that they're looking at the same creature they disregarded.

“Through our work, I hope to give these animals a chance to be loved and appreciated, while also exhibiting the endless beauty of nature.”

Henegan agrees: “For me, the daily reminder that we are all going to die helps me live a more meaningful life.

“It’s the one thing every human being has in common, yet our culture rarely talks about it.

“Death is still considered a taboo subject — not exactly polite dinner conversation.”

SIDEBAR:

Q&A with Obscure Art’s Tarrin Henegan and Roché du Plessis:

Q: Which animals have you used and are there any you would not use again? 

All bones require their own approach when it comes to cleaning. Fish bones won’t clean in the same way or time period as say, a rat. Domestic animals like cats or dogs often get fed a lot of table scraps, so their bones can get incredibly greasy and take much longer to clean. However, regardless of species, the most difficult to clean tends to be juveniles of any species as their bones haven't entirely formed yet and tend to fall apart, leaving a near impossible puzzle to reassemble. Snakes can also be a lot of work. Ribs – so many ribs.

Q: How do you process the corpses? Are either of you perhaps trained taxidermists?

Du Plessis: Before doing Obscure Art full-time, I was in the graphic design field, although bones have always been a fascination I'm pretty much entirely self-taught. I started with some basic macerating (when you rot a specimen in a jar of water), and although it's still a method I often utilize, I mostly employ the help of thousands of flesh-eating beetles. 

They are called Dermestes Maculatus and they can be found all over the world. Using a colony of a few thousand beetles, I am able to reduce whole specimen down to bone in a short time. Obviously, the bigger the colony, the faster they are going to work.

With the help of the beetles, and a few specialized techniques, I'm able to clean small specimens like birds or mice in a matter of hours while still keeping the skeleton intact, after which all the bones go through a  degreasing process, and then they are whitened and sterilized.Henegan: Before this, I was a high school art teacher when we were living in Benoni. I’m not a taxidermist—though I’m very keen to learn. I’ve preserved many bird wings and talons, but that’s as far as my taxidermy skills go for now.

I taught myself how to pin butterflies and other insects. They’re incredibly delicate to work with, so a certain level of dexterity and patience is essential. The same goes for arranging bone mandalas and nature compositions—it’s very meticulous work. Tweezers are my best friend!

As for working with tiny skeletons, it’s something we’ve both learned through practice, experimentation, and a deep respect for the natural world. Our approach might not be formal, but it’s hands-on and heartfelt—guided by curiosity and reverence for the creatures we work with.

Q: What is the most unusual or one-off piece you have made?

Du Plessis: We've done many interesting pieces, like pet memorials or hybrid rearticulations - combining the bones of creatures to make something new. I did really enjoy a commission we received that was to be a homage to The Owl House In Nieu-Bethesda.

It was a composition of various found items, feathers and an owl skull, displayed on crushed glass.  I was also commissioned by a high school before to clean, repair and restore some specimens that they had in their science lab. 

Q: What piece was your most time-consuming to complete?

Du Plessis: It's hard to say. When it comes to cleaning bones, it's a process that's best not rushed. Taking shortcuts can lead to damaging bone or ending up with shoddy results. I've had pet memorials that have taken well over a year to complete due to the lengthy amount of time it took to degrease the bones. The last thing you’d want when working on the remains of someone's beloved pet is to rush the process and damage the remains.Henegan: Nature compositions are the most time-consuming pieces for me. From finding and cleaning the bones to carefully arranging them on the velvet canvas—each step requires time and attention. The longer I stare at the piece, the more empty spaces I discover, inviting another tiny bone to be placed. And the more bones I add, the more my eye begins to zone in on the microscopic. It becomes an almost meditative process—one of deep focus, patience, and quiet discovery.

Q: Tell us about the gorgeous mandalas you make – and how many bones it took to make the largest one.

Henegan: Bone mandalas are my absolute favourite to create. They always turn out so differently, each with its own rhythm and pattern. They require a lot of patience, especially when it comes to collecting, sorting and matching bones. I don’t usually make a mandala from just one creature — instead, it might be made from the bones of three to four birds of similar size, or two to three rats. This helps achieve the symmetry and balance the piece calls for.

I’ve never counted the number of bones I’ve used in a single mandala, but my largest one was made for an A2 frame, and the smallest was a tiny 2 by 3 cm piece — a miniature snake bone mandala. Snake bones are my favourite to work with for mandalas. There are just so many similar bones in one body, which makes it possible to create an entire mandala from a single snake. There’s something incredibly satisfying about that kind of cohesion.

The bone mandalas are especially interesting because they always draw people in — they really are beautiful to look at. There’s something hypnotic about the symmetry of the bones, as well as the negative spaces they create when placed together. It’s almost meditative. The closer you look, the more detail you see, and people often find themselves captivated without even realising why.

Q: Which pieces are most popular – jewellery or framed art? And where do you sell your art?

Henegan: Our most popular pieces include bone rearticulations, bone mandalas, nature compositions, copper jewellery, and butterfly earrings. Over the years, we’ve taken part in many markets — in Johannesburg, Port Elizabeth, and even here in Bathurst. We’ve been regulars at the annual Bathurst Agricultural Show, and for the past two years, we also participated in the Grahamstown National Arts Festival.

We've recently been channelling our energy into our newly launched online shop (www.obscure-art.co.za). We market our work primarily through social media, but honestly, our biggest marketing tool has been word of mouth. We’re incredibly grateful for our growing community — for the people who resonate with our work, talk about it, and share it with their friends. Their support means everything to us. 

Du Plessis: We're always looking for new and interesting places and spaces to stock our unique pieces. That's why you can find some of our oddity jewellery at local shops, namely That Coffee Place in Bathurst and High Tides in Kenton on Sea. We believe local is lekker and we love collaborating with like-minded individuals that can see the value in the african curios with a twist that we create.

Q: Where do you work?

Du Plessis: Tarrin and I do all our creative work from home where we have a garage that's been converted into our art studio. It's great to not have to go very far to get to work, however, that also means the work never stops and I'll often find myself tinkering on something at all hours of the evening. We love what we do though, so it's hard to take a break. 

The dirty work is done at a facility a short drive away, and thankfully, the beetles know what their job is, so I don't have to micromanage any of them. As long as I keep them fed and warm, they never complain.

Q: Have you experienced any pushback from people who might regard your work as macabre?

Henegan: When we first started doing markets as Obscure, we did get a few strange looks — some people seemed a bit taken aback or unsure about our work. But honestly, those moments were rare. Most people are actually pleasantly surprised once they engage with what we do. I’ve even had people moved to tears after seeing our pieces at farmers’ markets, which is incredibly humbling.

What I love about markets is that our art is quite surreal and completely different from anything you've seen, so stepping into our space often feels like entering a small natural history museum—with some unexpected, obscure twists.

Du Plessis: I’ve had a random person here or there raise their nose when they hear what I do, claiming it's “disgusting” or that “skulls are evil”, at which point, I kindly remind them that their shoes are leather and they have a skull in their face.