Billy Corgan is a perfectionist. Everyone knows that. But when you look at a Smashing Pumpkins album cover, you aren't just looking at a marketing tool; you're looking at a carefully curated extension of a very specific, often messy, emotional world. Most bands in the early 90s were doing the "gritty warehouse" look or the "blurry live shot" thing. Not the Pumpkins. They went for Victorian dreamscapes, weirdly unsettling toddlers, and celestial goddesses.
It worked.
The visuals became as iconic as the Big Muff fuzz pedal tone that defined Siamese Dream. Honestly, if you grew up in that era, you didn't just hear the music. You saw it. You saw the star-covered girl on Mellon Collie and you knew exactly what kind of melancholy you were about to sign up for.
The Gish era and the birth of a psychedelic identity
The first real introduction to the band’s visual aesthetic was 1991's Gish. It’s a swirl. It looks like a psychedelic trip viewed through a vintage lens, which is basically what the record sounds like. The cover features the band members—Billy Corgan, James Iha, D’arcy Wretzky, and Jimmy Chamberlin—framed in a way that feels organic and slightly chaotic.
Photography was handled by Bob Goen. He managed to capture this sort of purple-hued, mystic energy that separated the Smashing Pumpkins from the Seattle grunge scene immediately. While Nirvana was wearing flannels in the rain, the Pumpkins were leaning into a flowery, art-rock sensibility. It was a bold move. It told the world they weren't just another loud rock band. They were "alternative" in the truest sense of the word.
Siamese Dream: The story behind those two girls
You've seen them. The two little girls sitting together, one with her arm around the other, looking like they just stepped out of a 1950s backyard memory. This is arguably the most famous Smashing Pumpkins album cover in existence. It perfectly mirrors the album’s themes: childhood innocence lost, nostalgia, and the jagged edges of memory.
For years, fans wondered who they were. Urban legends flew around. People thought they were D’arcy and her sister. Others thought they were just random stock photos.
In reality, the girls were Ali Laenger and Lyra Hill.
💡 You might also like: Kiss My Eyes and Lay Me to Sleep: The Dark Folklore of a Viral Lullaby
Billy Corgan actually tracked them down decades later. It’s a crazy story. In 2011, Corgan posted a photo on Twitter of the two girls as adults. It was a rare moment of closure for a fan base that obsessively analyzes every detail of the band's history. The photo, taken by Melodie McDaniel, wasn't some high-concept studio setup. It was meant to feel like a scrap from a family album, which makes the crushing, heavy guitar layers of "Cherub Rock" and "Today" feel even more intimate.
The contrast is the key. You have this sweet, sepia-toned image of childhood, but the music inside is about suicidal ideation and the grueling pressure of being a rock star. That’s the Smashing Pumpkins brand in a nutshell.
Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness: A Victorian space opera
When Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness dropped in 1995, it was a massive double-disc risk. It needed a visual that felt as big as its two-hour runtime. Enter John Craig.
Craig is the illustrator responsible for the "Star Girl." He didn't just take a photo; he created a collage. He took the body from a painting by Jean-Baptiste Greuze (titled The Souvenir) and the head from a Raphael painting. He stuck them together and placed her in a celestial, star-filled dreamscape.
It’s iconic.
Why the Mellon Collie art felt different
- It rejected the "cool" minimalism of the mid-90s.
- The art looked like it belonged in a dusty antique shop.
- It gave the listener permission to be "theatrical."
- Every single song in the massive liner notes had its own individual illustration.
Honestly, the booklet for Mellon Collie is a masterpiece on its own. It’s full of weird Victorian clip art, strange animals, and celestial bodies. It turned the album into a physical object you wanted to hold. In a world of digital streaming, we’ve lost that. But back then, you’d sit on your floor, put the CD in, and flip through John Craig’s bizarre world for an hour.
Adore and the shift to Gothic Noir
By 1998, things had changed. Jimmy Chamberlin was out of the band. Billy’s mother had passed away. His marriage had ended. The music turned electronic, dark, and acoustic. Naturally, the Smashing Pumpkins album cover for Adore had to reflect that shift.
📖 Related: Kate Moss Family Guy: What Most People Get Wrong About That Cutaway
The cover is a stark, black-and-white photograph by Yelena Yemchuk. Yemchuk was Corgan’s girlfriend at the time, and her influence on the band's visual style during the late 90s was massive. The cover features D'arcy Wretzky looking like a gothic film star from the silent era. It’s cold. It’s elegant. It’s a far cry from the colorful, sprawling stars of the previous record.
It’s interesting how much the band's look changed based on who was in the room. Without Jimmy's drums, the art became more fragile. More haunting.
Machina and the return of the occult
When the original lineup (mostly) reunited for Machina/The Machines of God in 2000, the art went back to being dense and symbolic. Vasily Kafanov was the artist here. He created these incredible, etched-looking pieces that felt like old alchemy texts.
The art for Machina is actually a series of plates that tell a story. If you look closely, you’ll see symbols for the band members, references to "The Everlasting Gaze," and a whole lot of esoteric weirdness. Billy Corgan has always loved mythology, and Kafanov was the perfect partner to bring that to life. It’s arguably the most "high art" the band ever got.
The modern era: Zeitgeist to Aghori Mhori Mei
After the band broke up and eventually reformed (in various iterations), the art style became hit or miss for some fans.
The cover for Zeitgeist (2007) was designed by Shepard Fairey—the guy behind the Obama "Hope" poster and Obey Giant. It’s a red, white, and black image of a drowning Statue of Liberty. It was a political statement. It was loud. It was very different from the dreamlike imagery of the 90s. Some people loved the modern edge; others missed the Victorian whimsy.
Then you have Oceania, which used a photo by Richard Shay. It’s a shot of the "Buckingham Fountain" in Chicago. It felt local. It felt like a return to the band’s roots in the Windy City.
👉 See also: Blink-182 Mark Hoppus: What Most People Get Wrong About His 2026 Comeback
And most recently, with Aghori Mhori Mei (2024), we see a return to a more abstract, textured aesthetic. It’s less about faces and more about a feeling. A mood.
Why you should care about the physical art
In 2026, we’re so used to seeing a 100x100 pixel square on a Spotify screen. But the Smashing Pumpkins were one of the last great "album" bands. They treated the packaging as a necessity.
If you’re a collector, the vinyl versions of these records are the only way to go. The Mellon Collie box set is a beast. It’s heavy. The art is huge. You can see the brushstrokes on the Star Girl’s face. You can see the weird textures in the background. It reminds you that music used to be a multi-sensory experience.
How to appreciate the Pumpkins' visual legacy
- Look for the hidden symbols: Especially in the Machina and Mellon Collie booklets. There are recurring motifs like the "Zero" heart and various alchemical signs.
- Check the credits: Names like Yelena Yemchuk and John Craig are just as important to the Pumpkins' history as the producers.
- Find the "The Aeroplane Flies High" box set: The art for the five EPs inside is a tribute to 1960s sci-fi and comic books. It’s a totally different vibe but just as detailed.
- Connect the art to the era: Notice how the art gets darker as the band’s internal relationships fractured in the late 90s.
The Smashing Pumpkins album cover isn't just a picture. It’s a map of Billy Corgan’s brain at a specific moment in time. Whether it’s the hazy psychedelic swirls of Gish or the stark gothic beauty of Adore, the visuals tell the story that the lyrics sometimes hide.
Next time you listen to "Mayonaise" or "1979," do yourself a favor. Don't just stare at your phone. Go find a high-res scan of the original art or, better yet, pull the vinyl off the shelf. Let the images bleed into the music. That’s how it was meant to be experienced.
To truly dive into the Smashing Pumpkins universe, start by tracking down the original 1995 liner notes for Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness. Analyzing the relationship between the song "Thru the Eyes of Ruby" and its corresponding illustration provides a deeper understanding of the band's thematic complexity. If you're looking to collect, prioritize the 2012 reissue series which features restored artwork and expanded booklets that preserve John Craig's original vision in higher fidelity than the 90s pressings.