Hans Walty

The Pholiota mutabilis clings to damp bark, its gills fanned like delicate pleats. The cap’s golden-brown hue darkens at the edges, as if stained by the forest’s shadows. A fleeting specimen, poised between decay and growth—here one season, gone the next.

The orange-capped mushroom stands bold against a muted background, its gills radiating delicate precision. Each line captures the fungi’s quiet strength, a study in earthy tones and organic symmetry. The engraving reveals nature’s intricate design, inviting closer inspection of its subtle textures and balanced form.

A bulbous mushroom rises from the page, its gills and stem rendered with precise, delicate lines. The earthy tones suggest damp forest floors, the quiet decay where fungi thrive. It’s both scientific and strangely alive, as if plucked straight from the undergrowth.

A cluster of Boletus ustulatus mushrooms rises from the page, their caps burnished like old copper. Gills fan out beneath, precise as lace. The engraving renders each fibrous stem and subtle shadow with quiet intensity—as if these fungi might dissolve back into the forest floor at any moment.

A cluster of Boletus luteus mushrooms rises from the forest floor, their golden caps glowing against the dark earth. Delicate gills and sturdy stems are rendered with scientific precision, yet the image hums with quiet vitality—as if these fungi might dissolve into the soil at any moment.

The red-cracked bolete emerges in precise ink strokes, its cracked cap revealing pale flesh beneath. Delicate gills fan out like folded paper, each line a testament to nature’s intricate design. This mushroom’s quiet beauty unfolds on the page, its scientific detail softened by the artist’s hand.