The year was 1979. Young, brash Currado Malaspina was the toast of Montparnasse. He lived a life of unremorseful dissipation. His monthly reenactments of the Carnevale di Venezia, staged with the florid flourish of campy faux-baroque pageantry, were attended by a veritable who's who of Parisian high and gutter society alike.
These disparate groups were unanimous in their enthusiasm for Curardo and in their avid, if slightly slanted interest in the miscellany of sexual expression. It was precisely in that period when Currado, due more to his art than to his behavior, became a prominent fixture within the European demimonde.
Les Maquettes du Marquis, a series of tactless works-on-paper, produced as a commission for the lavishly libertine Comptesse de Buford, has recently found its way into the estate of Artur Mont-Or, one of southern California's most predatory art collectors. There are rumors circulating among those who know about such things that these rare works will be exhibited for the first time in an undisclosed Los Angeles gallery.
It is not quite clear whether the works will be for sale.