The gold is real gold. Klimt worked gold leaf into the surface, a technique he learned from his father, who engraved gold for a living, and this is the painting where he pushed it furthest. Look at the two robes and you can tell the lovers apart by pattern alone — hard black rectangles for him, soft coloured circles for her. Then look down: she is kneeling at the very edge of the flowered ground, and beyond her feet there is nothing at all. Belvedere, Vienna.
