He told me he wanted to make love to me on a canvas. And we talked about how people’s hearts are also suffering all over the world as they watch and witness a swell of violence.
And though he made many murals on my body in the wee, small hours of our stoked, gypsy mornings with our friends, for whatever reason we never got around to it.” And because the issue – which also includes her icons Karl Lagerfeld, Hedi Slimane and Daphne Guinness – is all about “people coming together to express a passion for art and fashion, to really ‘go there’ to make a great statement and to change things,” Gaga and Kinney , well, went “there” to benefit her Born This Way Foundation. We made love amidst violence.” After meeting on the set of Gaga’s music video “You and I” in 2011, the pair got engaged last year on Valentine’s Day when the star presented her with a stunning heart-shaped ring.
magazine’s Pre-Spring Issue (V99) – which features a record number of 16 covers – the singer posed with those “who have kept me and protected me over the years, because they’ve wanted me to survive” – one being her fiancé, Kinney.
“I could not complete the covers of this issue without relinquishing one to an important cause,” Lady Gaga says of the shot, which shows the couple nude and smothered in paint in a mirror selfie taken by Kinney.
“Since we first met, Taylor’s been painting and drawing all over me.
Years ago, when we were secretly living in San Diego and crashing on the floor of a beach shack, we never wore shoes.
Besotted, Don José begs Carmen to move to America with him to start a new life, but she resists, saying: “Carmen will always be free.” Soon he discovers she has fallen for Lucas, a handsome picador, and kills her in a jealous rage.
After which, the book eccentrically subsides into a big, fat pro-gypsy plea for understanding of alternative lifestyles. And does Bizet’s version amplify or negate the point of the book?
The fleshier the production, the more attention it gets – and now, 134 years after her first appearance on the London stage, comes the Carmen we are supposed to have been waiting for.
Forget the traditional Sevillan castanet clacker, shimmying in tiered skirts with a rose between her teeth.
The heroine of the English National Opera’s new show is scantily clad, “sexy and sensual”, and struts her stuff in a darkened city centre car park pursued by a horde of panting squaddies.
Traditionalists should have feared the worst when word leaked out that the world’s favourite opera was being given the treatment by bullet-headed Spanish bad boy Calixto Bieito – a director described, not entirely pejoratively, as the Quentin Tarantino of the stage.
It was little consolation that then – as now – the whiff of scandal worked a peculiar magic.