Takashi Murakami is disgracing the Chateau of Versailles with tit-milk and sperm-gushing sculptures! Not. Still, even the totally tame Oval Buddha Silver and Flower Matango have a few thousand uptight French people fuming over the Japanese artist attacking their “traditions” and invading the ostentatious palace of hum-drum royal bling with his psychedelic art this September.
There are a couple up-tight petitions circling ’round.
One critic frets:
The young man with an erect penis whose sperm forms a lasso, the little woman with big breasts whose milk forms a skipping rope — these have no place in the royal apartments.
Never mind that those particular pieces aren’t even in the show.
The opposition to Murakami’s shiny and day-glo sculptures comes mostly from far-right fundamentalists. They love their chandeliers. They are afraid of flowers, breasts and Japan.