Somewhat stunned
I just watched a video starring a beautiful female singer singing a compellingly lovely song (in French):
(http://youtu.be/T5E6dG0w028)
In the video, the woman is wearing a dress is that is virtually transparent, and she is wearing nothing beneath it. Somehow the dress corrupted the body, i.e., it seemed to dirty it somehow. Not to sexualize it -- the body was more than equal to that -- but to make that beauty seem corrupt and polluted. I don't mean with sin, I mean aesthetically, as if there were literal streaks of dirt on both dress and body.
So now performers in France get to perform essentially naked on stage, using clothing for hypocritically pretending they are clothed? I remember all the hoohah over Janet Jackson's "wardrobe malfunction," which was nothing compared to this -- not to mention that the lady in this video is quite intentionally dressed to be naked. She reminds me of a Botticelli painting, showing the corruption of innocence and beauty.
O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
-- "The Sick Rose," William Blake
Click to view(http://youtu.be/T5E6dG0w028)
In the video, the woman is wearing a dress is that is virtually transparent, and she is wearing nothing beneath it. Somehow the dress corrupted the body, i.e., it seemed to dirty it somehow. Not to sexualize it -- the body was more than equal to that -- but to make that beauty seem corrupt and polluted. I don't mean with sin, I mean aesthetically, as if there were literal streaks of dirt on both dress and body.
So now performers in France get to perform essentially naked on stage, using clothing for hypocritically pretending they are clothed? I remember all the hoohah over Janet Jackson's "wardrobe malfunction," which was nothing compared to this -- not to mention that the lady in this video is quite intentionally dressed to be naked. She reminds me of a Botticelli painting, showing the corruption of innocence and beauty.
O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
-- "The Sick Rose," William Blake