Word: sensuality
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...when she sings, she is something else again. "Ain't nobody gonna turn me around," she belts out in the knowing tones of an older and wiser woman. Her plangent voice, ranging from a sensual whisper to a banshee wail, exuberantly projects the confident sexuality of Baby, I Love You: If you want my lovin'. , . Stretch out your arms, little boy, you're gonna get it, 'Cause I love you. Or it summons the throbbing despair and resignation of Going Down Slow, a lament of oncoming death: Somebody write my father . . . Tell him that early...
...Haydn chamber music, as simple and charming as any moment from Les Sylphides. Another new work, called Agathe's Tale, commits an even stranger breach of experimentalist etiquette: it tells a story. A virgin, fought over by the Angel Raphael and Satan, ditches them both for the bucolic, sensual pleasures...
...above all a composer for the piano. He blended an instinctive Spanish flavor with French impressionism and the Chopin-Liszt tradition to produce a heady and original style, flowing with romantic feeling yet tempered and refined by elegant workmanship. His six-part suite, Goyescas, which powerfully evokes the gaudy, sensual world of Goya's paintings and tapestries, stands with Albe-niz' Iberia at the pinnacle of the Spanish piano repertory...
Bonnie, played by Faye Dunaway, is first glimpsed naked, a sensual Erskine Caldwell backwoods beauty imprisoned by her hot, airless room. Clyde, the jaunty, vacant car thief, played by Warren Beatty, offers her passage out of the Dust Bowl, with his gun as her ticket. To her dismay, she discovers that he is impotent. "Your advertising is just dandy," sneers Bonnie, after their first no-love session. "Folks'd never guess you don't have a thing to sell." Yet Clyde does have a salable commodity: movement in a time of inertia, elation in the midst of depression...
...sometimes grinds to a standstill. As Hardy did, Schlesinger relies on the countryside to give the story its character. Benign or brooding, the huge hillocks and gun-metal skies gradually engulf the people and dwarf even their grandest moments. At last, every object of admiration-including Julie Christie, whose sensual beauty has never been more sensuously photographed-is made to be only a mere and minor part of England's green, unpleasant land...