art nouveau is spectacularly unfashionable isn’t it? the postmodern poison of irony precludes us from enjoying it without philosophically snickering while doing so. or maybe it’s just me? in any case today i offer some work from a tiny monograph of the dandy, doomed consumptive, and high priest of fin-de-siècle decadence aubrey beardsley. and why not? he was a talented kid who kicked some ass in his short 26 years. As an artist, he was merciless in his exposure of vice and folly and that never goes out of style around here, biznatch!

quote: beardsley had an unswerving tendency towards the fantastic of the gloomier and “unwholesome” sort. His treatment of most subjects was revolutionary; he deliberately ignored proportion and perspective, and the “freedom from convention” which he displayed caused his work to be judged with harshness. In certain phases of technique he especially excelled; and his earlier methods of dealing with the single line in conjunction with masses of black are in their way unsurpassed, except in the art of Japan, the country which probably gave his ideas some assistance. He was always an ornamentist, rather than an illustrator; and his work must be judged from that point of view.

i dig his work. here are some images for your consideration (click all for large versions)

for more images check out artrenewal’s page, or artpassions’ page. you can see le mort de’ arthur here.

beardsley was also a writer. check out his unfinished erotic work under the hill which is accompanied by some of his most complex illustrations.

tis all. goodnight.