A Walking Work Of Art

The facts of the case are simple: I wasn't a fan and then I was.

I don't know why I wasn't a fan because she never did anything, in any movie she made, that offended my artistic senses. I just wasn't a fan. I even saw her live onstage in THE SEAGULL and thought she did a lovely job and I still didn't go for her. I THINK it is because I actively pursued her for a photo shoot and never got one--which is no reason to not be a fan of someone's work; but I'm only human and that kind of thing WILL happen with me, emotionally (indeed, it has happened before...my feelings for someone have been affected by my perception of rejection).

Then I saw the film CLOSER and it changed not only my opinion of her work but, in certain ways, my life. It's a dramatic statement. It's not like the way PEACEFUL WARRIOR changed my life but the truth is CLOSER did change my life. For example, now I AM a fan. I recognize that Natalie Portman IS, in fact, a great actor. Her nuance, her honesty, her presence (she is never NOT there, in the scene), her timing, her individuality; it all comes out in CLOSER. Now I get the luxury and priveledge of going back and rediscovering her other works in other films. And that isn't the only way that CLOSER changed my life. This film (and the play upon which it was based--which I have read, repeatedly, now) has given me hours of study and meditation and hours of conversation with other intellectuals. It has given me something the think about, it has raised the bar on my artistic standards AND my personal ones. It and the character Natalie Portman played (not just the character but her delivery of that character into my life) have been so important to me that I have a new tattoo based on of it. I would say that that should flatter Miss Portman and Patrick Marber, who wrote the play.

Yesterday, I spent two hours with one of my best friends and one of favourite people and my favourite actor, Vince Gatton. He is one of my intellectual friends--we can get together and use big words (usually, the big words I use are words he has taught me) while strolling the halls of museums. The museum of choice yesterday was MOMA. The company was good, some of the art was good, the conversation was good; it was just a good two hours. And in one of the rooms at the museum, I was shocked and taken aback and, yes I was, starstruck--and I don't get starstruck by anyone, anymore--(after all, I have worked with Julie Harris, Maggie Smith and Judi Dench-- I don't get starstruck anymore) to see her there, all alone, wandering through MOMA. I think Vince was a little starstuck too; or maybe my starstruck just rubbed off on him a little.

"Is that....it is....IS THAT NATALIE PORTMAN?!" I whispered to Vince.

He looked....he said yes I think it is. We couldn't tell. She had curly blonde hair and she was just wandering around in jeans and a brown tank top with a bag slung over her shoulder. Do movie stars just wander around without an entourage? Does one of the most beautiful women in the world just wander around without ANYONE recognizing her? No. It couldn't be. But we were both sure it was. To make sure, though, we followed her. Yes. We did it. We stalked Natalie Portman at MOMA.

For fifteen or so minutes we loitered and we lingered, trying to get a good look at her. My heart was pounding in my chest. I am in love with this woman. I think she is this generation's Audrey Hepburn (admit it---she looks like Audrey Hepburn for this age, you know I am right!) and aside from her physical beauty, I am in love with her acting. I wanted to walk over and show her my tattoo. I didn't want to spend a lot of time with her, I just wanted her to see the GROOVY evidence of her affect on my life. So we stood near her for a long time, trying to get a good look and trying to decide whether or not to say hello. In fact, she sneezed twice and (without looking directly at her) I called out God bless you. Vince said "you blessed Natalie Portman."

I'm a propriety geek. I don't believe in invading people's privacy, space or boundaries. I couldn't do it. I thought about it and, in a split second (after fourteen minutes of stalking her) decided that -- if I were a famous actor and a stranger walked up to me and showed me that they had the name of a character that I played tattoo'd to their arm, it would freak me out a little--or maybe a lot. I am not a dangerous person or that KIND of a stalker. Natalie Portman was there to see the art and it was important, it was PARAMOUNT that I not be the person to ruin that for her. Also, I phoned Pat on my cellphone and told him that we had seen her and had been loitering near her for over ten minutes and he said (and this is a direct quote) "Ok. I want you to go to another room, now. Just leave the Natalie Portman room, right now. Go."

So we did.

Vince and I went to many different rooms at MOMA and we focused on each other and some great chat and delicious communing and had the kind of wonderful time that we always have when we are together. We talked about the time that he almost attacked Derek Jacobi in a store (or a Starbucks, it might have been) and the time I helped Vanessa Redgrave find a book at Barnes and Noble. We laughed about it and let the experience weave into the threads but it has been in my mind, ever since. I can see her profile, her nose, her lips, her beauty mark. I can see the walk I have watched, over and over, the posture I have memorized and the vulnerable yet implacable facial expression.

It is dawn on Saturday morning. The cool grey of the rising sun fills the tiny window in my kitchen; and in the cool grey of that dawn, I gaze out the window and say to myself, gently and softly...

"I was in the room with Plain Jane Jones....."

Please note: I did not take the photos shown in this piece.