He was one of the great bohemians; a century after his death, the name Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec still evokes colorful debauchery. An aristocrat whose legs were stunted by a childhood accident, he lived and worked in Montmartre, the Parisian cabaret and red-light district. There he drank and sketched by night, and by day transformed his sketches into paintings and posters that occasionally became the rage of Paris. But he drank too much, did everything to excess, and was dead before his 38th birthday. Had he been a New Orleanian, the band would have played 'Oh, Didn't He Ramble' at his funeral. But he was Parisian, and his art perfectly captures the City of Lights and its Belle Epoque demimonde, the dazzling legacy of an all-too-human artist with a flair for the deftly expressive gesture.
Through May 16 Windsor Fine Art, 221 Royal St., 586-0203; www.windsorfineart.com
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