It happened that in the midst of the dissipations attendant upon a Los Angeles winter, there appeared at Patrick Painter Gallery a show of paintings by one of the world’s most notorious figurative painters, remarkable for the singularity of his works, and of the man himself.

Like a character supernaturally cast from a retro-gothic novel set in the dangerous days of early science, Odd Nerdrum fashions himself in a linen smock and robes, rough leather vestments and draped furs. He resembles the characters in his paintings, described by the uninitiated as archaic, or post-apocalyptic. His sons and wife share the peculiarly hand-made sartorial tastes of the pater familias of the clan, theatrical in dress, the sons more Byronic, and when he makes a public appearance he is trailed by his acolyte fans, who tail behind the master like medieval cos-play devotees. Nerdrum himself has been costumed thus so long that it has become habitual and has not a hint of affectation.