Why I Like Gustav Moreau


















Moreau's art is the product of a byzantine, classically-educated, almost autistic detail-oriented mind. While many of his fellow lotus-eaters could claim to opium fantasies, rarely were they of his caliber. So, you say you recently had a fever-dream of bedding Ethiopian princesses under the metalwork angels of St. Ambrose's crypt to the strains of Nonnus' poetry? Cool. But can you put it on vaporously-textured canvasses, hot-shot?

That's what I thought.