Divine (Desert) Intervention: ROSALÍA’s “Sauvignon Blanc” Video

Slightly “leveling up” on the music video front after some were disappointed by the “simplicity” (which is, in this case, really just a euphemism for laziness) of what she came up with for “La Perla,” ROSALÍA has returned with yet another visual accompaniment for a song from Lux as if to say, “Look, I still care about putting on a ‘production.’” And to help her with that production is the video’s director, Noah Dillon, best known for being a key member of The Hellp and, now, shooting the cover photo for Lux (in addition to continuing his collaborations with ROSALÍA on this video).

With the majority of the songs on Lux being inspired by the hagiographies of select saints, “Sauvignon Blanc” is no exception to that general rule, with ROSALÍA wielding Saint Teresa of Ávila as her “blueprint” for this particular song. One that focuses on how, like Simone Weil after her, Saint Teresa chose to jettison her access to comfort and a lavish lifestyle in favor of an existence that centered on austerity. So it is that “Sauvignon Blanc” reads like a song about choosing love/spirituality (terms that are interchangeable within this context) over material—though that by no means is intended to suggest it’s in the vein of Sonny and Cher’s “I Got You Babe.”

The intensity of these motifs is also part of what makes it works so well as a piano ballad. One in which ROSALÍA declares, “Ya no quiero perlas ni caviar/Tu amor será mi capital/Y ¿que más da?/Si te tengo a ti/No necesito nada más/Sauvignon Blanc a tu lado/Mi futuro será dorado/Ya no tengo miedo del passado/Está en el fondo de mi copa de Sauvignon Blanc/En mi copa de Sauvignon Blanc/Mm-mm-mm-mm/A mi Dios escucharé/Mis Jimmy Choo yo las tiraré/Mi porcelana la dejaré caer/Y regalaré mi piano de pared/Estoy bien si estás tú/Si hoy estás tú” (or, in English, “I don’t want pearls or caviar anymore/Your love will be my capital/And what does it matter?/If I have you/I don’t need anything else/Sauvignon Blanc by your side/My future will be golden/I’m no longer afraid of the past/It’s at the bottom of my Sauvignon Blanc glass/In my Sauvignon Blanc glass/Mm-mm-mm-mm/I’ll ​​listen to my God/I’ll ​​throw away my Jimmy Choos/I’ll ​​let my china fall/And I’ll give away my upright piano/I’m okay if you’re here/If you’re here today”).

While some might have expected a video that offers a literal interpretation of rejecting the trappings of wealth, ROSALÍA opts, instead, to keep things more abstract. Indeed, she keeps it more “Billie Eilish” in its overall concept and execution (and why not, since ROSALÍA admires Eilish’s work enough to have collaborated with her on a song called “Lo Vas a Olvidar” in 2021). A concept that, while “uncomplicated,” also conveys the emotion and meaning behind the song with its minimalistic visual approach (save for a couple of notable special effects toward the end). What’s more, even the sound of the song itself has a touch of the “Billie Eilish flair” to it—a ballad with a certain resemblance to “What Was I Made For?” But it’s the videos for “NDA” and “Your Power” that “Sauvignon Blanc” most recalls. The latter primarily because of its desert setting, established from the outset by dust blowing in the wind before a cut to ROSALÍA positioned in a clear-cut “yearning” pose (to be sure, it’s as if the entire collective consciousness anticipated that the release of Wuthering Heights would bring back yearning in 2026). To boot, she’s breathing in that “heaving,” “impassioned” sort of way to heighten the theatricality.

Then comes another cut to ROSALÍA lying in the back seat of a car as she laughs/looks lustfully at whoever seems to be in there with her. For the way in which it’s shot makes it almost look as if the unseen lover is filming ROSALÍA in this context (think: the intimacy of the Pam and Tommy sex tape). And in this person’s ostensible absence is when ROSALÍA looks to be her most bereft, taking up the aforementioned “yearning pose” in the middle of the desert. But in the brief few scenes that show her as if she’s with her lover (in one scenario even enjoying a glass of, what else, Sauvignon Blanc after biting her necklace in the style of a certain iconic Marilyn Monroe photoshoot), ROSALÍA appears at her most elated. Thus, when she’s shown having “given up” this love, it comes across as the metaphor for renouncing the life of luxury that Saint Teresa chose to after becoming increasingly religious during the course of her early life (and yes, like ROSALÍA, she was fascinated by the lives of the saints).

The core “drama” of the concept arrives just before the one-minute mark, with a car in the distance headed straight for ROSALÍA, still lying supine in resignation. As if she doesn’t care either way what happens to her now. The tension of this moment (heightened by a cut to the interior of the car with a crucifix hanging from the rearview mirror [how very Lana Del Rey]) mimics the kind that Eilish captures in “NDA,” as a series of oncoming cars swerve past her while she walks down a darkened road with her back turned to the traffic.

That level of “no fucks given” energy is also present in “Sauvignon Blanc.” Then, at the one-minute-eight-second mark, the confirmation that the POV shot was intended to convey that ROSALÍA was romping around with her lover is confirmed with an objective POV shot that shows the dark-skinned hand of ROSALÍA’s corazón caressing her face (a moment that feels decidedly like a nod to Madonna in the “Like A Prayer” video).

When the car that’s been headed straight toward her only ends up parking right next to her, ROSALÍA still makes no move to get up. That is, until some form of “divinity” seems to intervene, causing her to levitate like a member of Nancy Downs’ coven. And, after enough time in the air, she looks to be “at peace” with this new power. Even though it has meant sacrificing something—someone—she loved.

For the grand denouement, a trick of superimposition is wielded to make it appear as if a car is exploding inside her very head (though it doesn’t look to be the same model that was threatening to run her over before). In the final scene, ROSALÍA then watches the car go up in flames, purified anew from her renunciation of this symbol of frivolity.

As for the lover of which she sang, “I’m okay if you’re here/If you’re here today,” he’s nowhere to be found. And, for the first, time it’s as if ROSALÍA really is all alone in the desert, ready to be reborn in some transcendent way. Not unlike Jesus during his whole “forty days and forty nights” period. An homage that Saint Teresa could also get on board with considering one of her own names is Saint Teresa of Jesus. Though she might take issue with all of ROSALÍA’s “frolicking” in the back seat of a car. Then again, no one knows more about sexual temptation than a nun, so perhaps she would understand.