Big Blue Bubble didn’t just stumble into a hit. Honestly, if you look at the earliest sketches of Mammott or Furcorn, you might not even recognize them. My Singing Monsters concept art is this weird, sprawling rabbit hole that shows exactly how a mobile game goes from a rough "what if" to a global phenomenon. It’s gritty. It’s sometimes a little creepy. And it’s definitely not as polished as the bright, bouncy animations we see on Plant Island today.
Most people think character design is a straight line. It isn't. For the team at Big Blue Bubble, it was a messy process of figuring out how a monster could look like a "monster" without scaring away the casual players.
The Furcorn Evolution and Why it Matters
Take Furcorn. He’s basically the mascot at this point. But in the early My Singing Monsters concept art stages, the designs were much more experimental. Some sketches featured different twig placements; others played with the "fuzz" texture to see how it would render on older phone screens from 2012. You have to remember, the hardware back then was limited. They couldn't just throw millions of polygons at a singing shrub.
The artists, including names like Dave Kerr, had to balance personality with performance. You can see this in the "Monster Design Evolution" videos the developers have released over the years. They often show a transition from hand-drawn pencil sketches to digital vectors. What’s wild is how much "edge" the original drawings had. Some early concepts for the Entbrat looked genuinely intimidating—less like a big, goofy guy and more like a swamp creature you'd avoid at night.
The Shift from Hand-Drawn to Digital
In the beginning, everything was raw. The lines were shaky. The colors weren't neon; they were earthy. This is a common thread in professional game dev. You start with the "vibe" before you worry about the marketing. If you look at the concept sheets for the Ethereal Monsters, you see a massive jump in complexity. By the time they were designing Ghazt, the team was comfortable pushing the boundaries of what a "monster" could be—moving into ghostly, translucent territory.
It's kinda funny. The community loves digging up these old assets because they feel like "lost media." When a sketch of an unreleased monster or a scrapped island layout leaks from a livestream, the subreddit goes into a total meltdown. Why? Because the concept art represents the "Multiverse" of what the game could have been.
Scrapped Ideas and the "Lost" Monsters
Not everything makes it. That’s the heartbreak of game design. There are dozens, maybe hundreds, of sketches in the Big Blue Bubble archives that will never sing a single note. Sometimes a design is too complex to animate. Sometimes the sound design team just can't find a "voice" that fits the visual.
- Mimic: This is the big one. For years, Mimic was a legendary piece of concept art that fans obsessed over. It was supposed to be the first 5-element monster. For a long time, it only existed as a drawing in the "The Art of My Singing Monsters" book.
- The Original Rare Designs: Early Rares weren't just color swaps. The concept art shows the team experimented with different limbs and extra eyes before settling on the more streamlined versions we have now.
- Scrapped Islands: There are sketches of environments that look like biological innards or high-tech factories that never saw the light of day because they didn't fit the "musical" aesthetic.
The Rare and Epic variants are where the concept artists really get to flex. If the common monster is the "standard" version, the Rare concept art is where they explore the "mutations." It’s a way for the devs to use the ideas they had back in 2012 but were too afraid to use because they might have been "too much" for a new audience.
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How the Art Style Defined the Sound
You can't talk about the art without the music. They are inseparable. In the concept phase, the artist usually has a rough idea of the instrument. If a monster looks "heavy" (like T-Rox), the art dictates a percussive, weighty sound.
I’ve noticed that when the My Singing Monsters concept art features sharp angles or metallic textures, the resulting audio is almost always synth-heavy or metallic. Look at the Wubbox. Its concept art is a nightmare of gears and boxes. It looks loud. And—surprise—it is the loudest, most chaotic thing in the game. The visual "noise" of the concept art translates directly into the literal noise of the gameplay.
Complexity in Simplicity
There's a specific "look" to an MSM monster. It's the eyes. Most monsters have those large, expressive eyes that make them feel relatable. Even the ones that are just a pile of rocks or a floating cloud have a "human" element. That was a conscious choice made during the initial sketching phase. If they look too realistic, the game becomes a horror title. If they look too "cutesy," it feels like a generic preschool app. The "sweet spot" found in the concept art is what kept the game alive for over a decade.
The Practical Side of Monster Design
If you’re an aspiring artist, looking at these sheets is a masterclass in "silhouette theory." A good monster should be recognizable just by its shadow.
- Start with the Shape: Look at Bowgart. Whether it’s a sketch or a 3D model, that long neck and cello-body are unmistakable.
- Color Palette: The concept art usually limits a monster to 3-4 main colors. This keeps the screen from looking like a muddy mess when you have 30 monsters singing at once.
- Animation Pivot Points: When you see the concept art for a monster like Quibble, you can see the artists already thinking about how the heads will bob. They aren't just drawing a picture; they're drawing a puppet.
Honestly, the transition from the "Dawn of Fire" era art to the original game's art is a trip. Dawn of Fire went for a more "baby-fied," textured look. The concept art there focused heavily on making the monsters look soft and "touchable." It was a pivot from the more rugged, 2D-looking designs of the 2012 era. It shows that even within one franchise, the "concept" of what a monster looks like is always shifting.
Where to Find Official Concept Art Today
If you want to see the real deal, you shouldn't just look at Google Images. A lot of that is fan art (which is great, but not official).
The best source is the official "The Art of My Singing Monsters" digital book. It’s a goldmine. It shows the evolution of the islands themselves—how Plant Island went from a generic forest to a living, breathing organism with a face. You should also keep an eye on the "Monster Piece" segments from their older YouTube livestreams. The developers often show "behind the scenes" files that haven't been touched in years.
Seeing a 12-year-old file of a Potbelly sketch reminds you that these "monsters" are just ideas that someone spent way too long obsessing over. It’s encouraging for creators. It shows that even the most iconic characters started as a weird, ugly doodle on a piece of notebook paper.
Actionable Insights for Fans and Artists
If you’re trying to study this style or just want to appreciate it more, pay attention to the "Greebles." That's a design term for the little bits and bobs—the warts on a Furcorn, the cracks in a Noggin, the steam coming off a T-Rox. The My Singing Monsters concept art thrives on these tiny details that give the world "texture."
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- Analyze the Silhouettes: Take a screenshot of your favorite island and turn the brightness all the way down. Can you still tell who is who? That’s the power of good concept art.
- Study the Proportions: Notice how many monsters have "short legs, big bodies" or "no necks." This is a deliberate choice to make them look sturdy and "collectible."
- Follow the Artists: Look up the portfolios of artists who have worked at Big Blue Bubble. Seeing their personal work often reveals where the "DNA" of your favorite monsters came from.
Understanding the concept art is the only way to truly understand why the game works. It’s not just about the catchy songs; it’s about a world that feels like it was built by hand, sketch by sketch, over years of trial and error. Next time you buy a new monster, take a second to look at its design. Think about the five or six versions of that creature that were thrown in the trash before this one made the cut. That's where the real magic is.