In this piece, Gutherz transfigures the sense of smell into the image of a young naked nymph, all pink and white but discreetly wreathed in gauze, drifting above a heap of blossoms while butterflies flutter about her. This work of sugary folderol certainly trips on my cloying sentimental threshold, but however we may roll our eyes, it reflects an attitude of mythological malarkey that prevailed in late 19th Century Symbolist circles. I suppose we can — while shuddering — forgive it.
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