Epstein Chessboard: Kingly Mockery or Creepy Vanity? A New Look at the 2016 Photo Project

Sage Matthews here, and yes, the night just got darker, because we’re staring at another reminder that the world sometimes spins toward its most unsettling curiosities. And of course, it revolves around Jeffrey Epstein, that name that keeps surfacing like a bad scent you can’t quite wash off. The latest bizarre capsule is a set of photos from 2016 in an New York City photo shop, where Epstein allegedly became the “king” on a custom chessboard built from 36 pieces modeled after young women and a male participant who isn’t Epstein himself. The project, described by sources close to the matter, involved nine women in their twenties who posed for 3D sculptures used to fashion sandstone-like rooks, knights, bishops, and queens—while the kings, supposedly, were reserved for others and never fully pictured as Epsteins in the final lineup.

Let the images do the talking, and yes, they are every bit as unsettling as you imagine: Epstein dressed in white and black robes, sporting bejeweled crowns, flanked by women placed in queen and pawn roles. The shop employee who oversaw the process initially did not recognize Epstein, a detail that feeds the sense of creeping unease. It wasn’t until Epstein asked that his own photos be shot to complete the “king” pieces that the person behind the counter realized the magnitude of the subject walking into their studio. The episode unfolds in a way that sounds more like a macabre art installation than a straightforward commission, and it’s hard to separate fascination from repulsion when the narrative ties Epstein’s notoriety to a project built around a chess metaphor that feels almost ceremonial in its hierarchy.

The timeline, according to the sourcing, stretches across several months during which around six hundred photos were taken, ultimately distilled into thirty-six chess pieces for a five-thousand-dollar price tag. The women involved reportedly sang a familiar tune—being part of a chess club—yet offered little in the way of identifying details about a club president, a detail that raises eyebrows in a story already dripping with questions about consent, power, and protocol. The piece set includes a theatrical arrangement that positions some of the women as queens and pawns, a staging that reads as a deliberate commentary on control and status within Epstein’s orbit, even when framed as mere artistic exploration.

On the legal and historical front, the Epstein dossier is crowded with its own gravity: an arrest in 2006 for soliciting prostitution linked to a Florida case involving a family’s allegations tied to a 14-year-old, followed by a plea deal that yielded 18 months in jail. The contrast between legal peril and an art project that casts Epstein as a ruler—complete with a chessboard of female figures—feels like a stark drumbeat of the contradictions that haunt public memory of this case. The project, by all accounts, was not a spontaneous fling but a carefully orchestrated photoshoot with a narrative arc: Epstein arrives late to the process, commands a final touch on the board, and leaves behind a chilling tableau captured as 3D sculpture and then, somehow, a visual record of his supposed reign.

So why should we care? Because this is the kind of thing that sits at the intersection of fame, power, and a disturbing sense of theater—a reminder that notoriety can be weaponized to produce chilling art or curios, depending on the viewer’s tolerance for discomfort. It also raises enduring questions about who gets to tell these stories, how consent is navigated in art that uses real people as subjects, and how the public should interpret images that appear to glamorize or mock real-world harm.

What comes next in this morbid chess game? Will more behind-the-scenes details emerge that recast these photographs as something different—an indictment in grayscale, or a cautionary tale about collaboration with controversial figures? Only time will tell, and the clock is ticking in a way that feels less like a chess match and more like a countdown to another uncomfortable truth.

Sources: Celebrity Storm and TMZ
Attribution: Kwame-ville in HD (2370973306) — ‘CAVE CANEM’ from USA (CC BY-SA 2.0) (OV)