Klimt VS Shiele

Gustav Klimt's depiction of sexuality not only maintains modesty, but is a glorified version of that modesty, wrapping his subjects in glowing, opulent cloths that seem to be an extension of the bodies themselves. We wonder if the cloth is a fantasy, a projection of sensation and ego. They are encompassed and hidden, revealing only what is needed to be revealed - holy creatures of a holy space.

Then, Egon Schiele, Klimt's student, approaching our First World War: the same subject matter undressed. A bare, bony truth that rears its ugly head in agonizingly angled manifestations. Why do these images seem so much like those from a horror film? They are us without a filter - flesh, blood and bone - bodies without quilted dreams.