But, in fact, it wasn't just the nakedness -
this Aphrodite broke the mould in a decidedly erotic way.
Just look at her hands.
Are they modestly trying to cover herself up?
Are they pointing us in the direction
of what we want to see most?
Or are they simply a tease?
Whatever the answer,
Praxiteles has established that edgy relationship
between a statue of a woman
and an assumed male viewer
that has never been lost
from the history of European art.
But that difficult boundary between statue and flesh
was understood by the Greeks themselves.
They told a tale that shows how they, too,
knew of the perils they faced in creating what they saw
as realistic images of the human body.
One night, it was said,
a young man became so aroused by this statue,
he forced himself upon it, leaving a stain of lust on her thigh.
He later threw himself over a cliff to his death, in shame.
That story of the stain not only shows
how a female statue can drive a man mad,
but also how art can act as an alibi
for what was - let's face it - rape.
Don't forget - Aphrodite never consented.
But however troubling the Greek Revolution was in its own time,
there's a deeper legacy that reaches the modern age.