*************** Mireille Balin
*
II
In the quarry from view it was the object, the "divine" is made, its beauty, an impenetrable mask and shelter. Gods and men made to pay heavily Mireille Balin unique luster that for ten years she gave to the screen.
Glory gave her face with makeup artists, hairdressers, so as to conform to outward signs of the vamp, an accomplice or an instrument of destruction, death, promised to man bold enough to fall in love with a woman triumphant.
And if she accepted roles of adventurer, came fame, were deeply-cons jobs that contributed to his loss?
is his first appearances - the right word! - I ask the secret of charm in the original sense of incantation, she exercised immediately on the public. At the young girl of good family in a misguided prom gravelly to the peasant, the niece of Don Quixote, the secretary of If I were the boss (pictured above) ; the servant who listens to singing Neapolitan restaurant "Catari. This is where to look on the native gold and not on what the jewelers will do, that is wanting to take the original clarity of a face before the glitter of jewelry, furs, do come the adulterate.
prettiness and beauty do not overlap exactly, and it feels good gradation from one to another. The young actress is pretty, but it will not break us, and very forward, a splinter also disturbing - and delicious - than what we had at the little face of Simone Simon in Lac-aux-dames , if this prettiness is summarized in a simple harmony of features, common to the rest, many extras.
A good grace, a distinction innate health of the beautiful which is close to a nature perceived as reliable and tasty, are massed in the oval of a face that would require the exclamation poet: "God! the fact that good looking! "The head comes in flowering tops of a body that has the slenderness of wicker. And one could extend the metaphor invoking, for this face, the fresh innocence of a hawthorn bush in bloom.
This face I would it so close, so I did not know Latin - without the extravagance of Anna Magnani, Silvana Mangano one? More: its extent, its balance, the light that is flush, it is the landscapes of the Loire Valley, more than the Mediterranean shores, as I connected.
The front retains its magnitude especially when reading a book open water clarity captive at reflux, a hollow rock, and that is pure beach tide low at dawn, when no one does it is still not printed!
can not detect, in this broad band, trace of vanity, presumption. Decency and honesty there spreading it, strengthened by a look that questioned, and where the expectation is incredulous tone: "Despite the certainty with which I rule my life, how to be sure what I'm worth, what I doing? The righteousness of people who approach me? The sincerity of their praise? "
That look right, given a hint to smile (laughter does not suit this face) persuade us that have insurance that gives women a fun to see mine. But the lucidity of which is not fooled by appearances do not cease to doubt themselves and others, which very soon would have to endorse the "Do not believe" Valery, or "I saw myself see "La Jeune Parque.
*
Then came fame and star status. Sanded, cleaned, locked in almost incisive contours - like those, conclusive, definite, necessary the artist after his sketches ... - Met face to extreme presence, and Beauty, unimpeachable, can exert its full empire quivering surface sufficient to suggest the terms of a character, a loyal wife of the man, became a icon evil. An icon, incidentally, also dated to us that Marlene Dietrich.
Mireille Balin Who sees its debut at its peak, has a sense of glaciation which extended from the mouth too well drawn, the deadliest of the eyelids, brows reduced a decisive feature of charcoal, a front that pits you against an inflexible end of inadmissibility. All the Beauty - upward - the highest creature in this serene piece of arrogance, which gives you "the punch, quick, to the heart, in passing," as Cocteau.
In vain we ask for this front to leave reflected a reflection of the virtues that one knows yet intrinsic to the woman: a timidity land, which goes to the lack of confidence, foresight about the corrosive social conventions, worldliness, luxury, false pretenses of any kind, a propensity to solitude and contemplation, as the crowd voracious trivial, does not admit, and who will judge by appearances woman musician, cultivated - reader of Marcus Aurelius - and world traveler enamored of the high places of art world.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Whispers ...
The love
belong to your great hands, warm and sagacious, is a guarantee of great ease. It's between them ... I feel elevated!
* The lover
I bring everything to you. Has it snowed? (And then, on the plain, the same clarity acute rising from the foam, at the stream; sparking the same universal. The crow flies, the planting of cherry blossoms, whose brightness had invaded and subjugated any color ...) Yes, did it snow? I think so: The snow is a good shot fresh cloth, canvas a little rough - for love. The cloth is laid for those who love, in a side light glass crystal. *
François Solesmes, The Whispers of love , Ink Navy.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
0 comments:
Post a Comment