Vanessa Redgrave from the photographers in her time of grief.
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TessaQ |
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I wish the media was a little more respectful at moments like this. It seems to me from the video clip that friends and family were trying to shelter
Vanessa Redgrave from the photographers in her time of grief. |
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LilyBarthes |
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I can't imagine how difficult it must be to have to dress and do the hair and cosmetics and have a "public" face on when coming and going during
the process of grieving and regrouping to support each other. That video is a glimpse of an extended family, friends and family mixed into a unit, and we
happen to recognize many of them from their public work.
Captured on film are unheard conversations on the street with pointing and pauses might add up to "Let Vanessa sit next to the window, you know she gets car sick" or "Are we going to the hotel or back to the house, and have you eaten anything today?" and hugs that conceal the whispers "We're here if you need us, let the boys come over and spend the night with our kids if they need to get away from the public scrutiny" or "the pain of losing Natasha as my friend is so strong, I can guess at how you feel. Please, let us be here to help you through this time." And, of course, via handshakes and stricken looks, "What can I do to help? My heart is breaking also, and I need to help you through this because I understand your pain and need to try to heal my own by healing you." Though we didn't hear the words, we remember what our family looked like when a beloved one at the heart of it died. They need space and time. Every day or two we hear of someone famous or near famous or previously famous who has died. It doesn't hit us in the solar plexis like this death. I think it is the visible presence of so much love tied in with an incomplete life that makes us understand this death as different. Irresistable, and unfair. Her children aren't grown yet! And her parents isn't supposed to outlive her! It makes us all examine our own mortality in this context. Lily Barthes |
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Eva226 |
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I understand what you mean Tessa, but maybe they chose this public tribute for a reason?
E.xxx
"You won't like me when I am... hungry!"
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LilyBarthes |
Protest at Natasha's funeral planned by Kansas "preacher" | ||
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There is a really nasty man from Kansas named Fred Phelps who is rabid in his hatred of homosexuality, and he has determined that the way to call attention to
his cause is to picket the funerals of high-profile individuals and of soldiers who were killed in Afghanistan and Iraq. The individuals who have died are
pawns in his game, they may or may not support gay rights, he has simply found a way to try to call attention to himself. He really is insane.
Laws have been passed in many places with the express purpose of keeping him way back from proceedings. He's from the Westboro Baptist Church in Topeka, Kansas, and it's a small group, maybe 60, of really awful people, who apparently proposed to drive to New York. I won't try to copy the text of the article here, it is too vile. Here is the story: http://www.philly.com/philly/hp/news_update/20090321_Church_says_it_will_picket_Richardson_s_funeral.html I will explain for those forum members abroad that here in America people see him for what he is, a cretin, but the laws regarding free speech, even if it is hate speech, give him some ability to move around and say nasty things. He is universally despised, and I think most people are hoping that when the old man dies (the sooner, the better) the church will fall apart. They're not big, they're not smart, they are mean-spirited and stupid, and it casts no shadow or aspersion on Ms. Richardson that he would choose her high-profile family to torment. He won't be able to get near, but the mere fact that he has decided to make the effort is an insult on so many levels. Maggie |
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Mareska |
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Maggie, I'd read in another paper about this group and their plan to protest tomorrow, and I thought they were shameful, but I had no idea just how
shameful, and, as you put it, vile, until I read the article you referenced. I hope and pray the local authorities will keep them well away from the church and
the family.
MDo you believe in always, the wind said to the rain I am too busy with my flowers to believe, the rain answered |
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JasmineStill |
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"it casts no shadow or aspersion on Ms. Richardson "
What kind of shadow or aspersion might it be thought to cast? I've only just read that in California, the same day that Obama was elected, they made gay marriage unlawful. In California of all places. What hope for the rest of the US? Anyway, off topic . |
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agneskorsoveczky |
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Very sad news. All my thoughts and prayers go to Liam Neeson, his two sons and the entire family.
After the Oedipus performance I saw Natasha and Liam along with Ralph as came out at the stage door. |
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Enrica |
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What a lovely headstone Natasha's grandmother Rachel Kempson has - apparently, she is buried in Millbrook, New York and Natasha will be near her. It is
comforting to know this. Hope this links works:
http://www.nydailynews.com/gossip/2009/03/22/2009-03-22_actress_natasha_richardson_laid_to_rest_.html |
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Shammy the Bold |
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So sorry to hear this very sad news this week. Couldn't help thinking of Liam Neeson In "Love Actually" as Katrin already mentioned. Life
imitating art. What a shame. My prayers go out to Natasha's family and friends.
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wywsabm |
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This is such a tragedy. Shammy, I, too, couldn´t help but thinking of Liam Neeson in "Love Actually" when I read the news.
Anke
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Mareska |
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Lots of pictures from before and after the funeral.
http://www.poughkeepsiejournal.com/apps/pbcs.dll/gallery?Avis=BK&Dato=20090322&Kategori=NEWS01&Lopenr=903220802&Ref=PH&Profile=1006 MDo you believe in always, the wind said to the rain I am too busy with my flowers to believe, the rain answered |
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LilyBarthes |
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"it casts no shadow or aspersion on Ms. Richardson " I made that statement in case someone reading this from another country didn't know about Mr. Phelps. One would think that if a group bothers to picket an event that it has something to do with WHY they picket. But in this instance, there is no correlation between anything Natasha Richardson stood for and the reasons this old crackpot pickets (just to get attention for his hair-brained cause). Maggie Edited to add this: Jasmine, I understood what you've repeated--no problem whatsoever with being gay or bi-sexual, and I was aware of the senior Redgrave, but Phelps is probably clueless. I was focussed more on trying to explain this crack pot to folks beyond the American borders rather than to make a statement about the things he opposes. Sexual orientation is a non-issue for many (I hope the majority of) Americans these days--that is a good thing!
Last Edited By: LilyBarthes
03/23/09 14:56.
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LilyBarthes |
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Those photos from Poughkeepsie have no names associated, but there are some of the best actors around in those photos. Alan Rickman, Timothy Dalton, Ralph
Fiennes, all of the Redgraves and their spouses, and is Holly Hunter in there? I saw many who looked familiar but I wasn't sure who they were. At least
they seem to be taken with a long lens, so these photographers would have been way back from the service itself.
Lily Barthes |
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Mareska |
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Yes, that's Holly Hunter. Franco Nero, Vanessa's husband, as well as Carlo Nero, F & V's son, were there. Franco and Carlo were pallbearers, in
addition to Liam.
.............. I just zipped through the pictures again and saw Laura Linney. MDo you believe in always, the wind said to the rain I am too busy with my flowers to believe, the rain answered
Last Edited By: Mareska
03/23/09 08:02.
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JasmineStill |
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Maggie, I was only pointing out that even if this nutter had targeted the Richardsons because they were as gay as gardenias and and as camp as Christmas (and
her grandfather Michael Redgrave was bisexual, and her father Tony Richardson died of AIDS - so maybe that's why), it would cast no "shadow" or
"aspersion" on them. It is not a shadow or an aspersion to be gay.
Last Edited By: JasmineStill
03/23/09 08:11.
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JasmineStill |
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I wasn't going to post any more articles on this, but there was a really lovely tribute by a close friend of Natasha's in yesterday's Sunday Times
at
http://women.timesonline....brity/article5949824.ece Goodbye, gorgeous Tasha The actress Natasha Richardson, who died suddenly last week, was a fiercely loyal friend but not afraid of a squabble Joanna Weinberg The phone call I received last Tuesday morning was the call everybody dreads. It was one of Natasha Richardson's best friends from New York, saying there was very bad news. Natasha had had a skiing accident in Canada, had complained of a headache and, shortly afterwards, collapsed. It seemed she had suffered a brain haemorrhage, and she wasn't coming back. She was being flown to New York later that day so everyone could say good-bye to her. I got on a plane straight away. I had spoken to Tasha just a few days before to make a plan to meet up in London in a couple of weeks' time. She, her husband, Liam Neeson, and their 12-year-old son, Danny, were coming round for a Sun-day-night takeaway curry, and then the two of us were to have a girls' catchup a few days later over lunch. It was a hurried but happy call. She was rushing to the airport to take her elder son, Micheal, 13, and his friend skiing. I can clearly remember the first time I met Natasha, eight years ago. I had been taken on a date to a glitzy party by a handsome New Yorker (I was living there at the time) and was obviously looking lost. She came over. "Nightmare when you don't know anyone," she said. "Come and have a f a g by the bar." This warmth most marked her character, matched by a wonderful bellow of laughter that came from the bottom of her belly, easily and with enthusiasm. She had a way of gathering people around her, of making her friends into family. I became one of them. She created for us all a safe haven from the world at the family's farmhouse in upstate New York - she had moved to the States at the beginning of the 1990s. Of course I knew her only as a friend but from what I saw, she took her roles as mother, wife, sister and daughter seriously. She adored her two boys. She was so proud of them; they were the very centre of her life. She was tenderly attentive, making sure she had time with them separately - hence the ski trip with Micheal, and London with Danny. She would get them to teach her hip-hop routines. If they were horsing about in the pool, she would be the first to jump in fully clothed, if that was the spirit of the moment. Liam was her man, the love of her life. She adored his strength and gentleness, and - like many others - she greatly respected his talent. She was physically tiny next to him, but really she stood equal, by the sheer force of her character. Crunching up that drive late on a Friday afternoon would mean a jug of frozen cocktails (she was obsessed by perfecting the latest tipple, from lychee martini to pomegranate margarita), endless delicious things to eat, games and gossip late into the night, swimming, tennis, a peppering of glamorous guests and a weekend that was a world away from the humdrum and banal. After a late night - and you would never get away not staying up late with her - you'd get up in the morning to find the house immaculate, a plate of fresh croissants and a huge pot of steaming coffee on the table alongside all the papers. Two drained cups of builder's tea standing by the sink would be the only evidence that she was already on her morning errands. Much of the weekend was taken up with eating. She was unbelievably greedy and, boy, could she cook. Some of my happiest memories are of sitting at the chopping block in her wooden kitchen, watching her slice and fry and bake. She had shelves and shelves of cookbooks, with curling Postit notes marking hundreds of favourite recipes. She could knock out a beurre blanc to match the speciality at J Sheekey, that favourite restaurant of London actors, and spent hours working out how to replicate the salad dressing at Club 55, her adored lunch spot in St Tropez. She even had a special Cuban box to roast whole hogs in the garden for parties. As a girlfriend, she encapsulated all those mythical qualities that you'd never thought could exist outside fiction: she could walk for miles in insanely high heels, mix a perfect cocktail, transform herself from barefaced imp to glamour goddess with just 15 minutes and her box of make-up tricks. She understood the equal importance of caviar and burgers, of Dom Pérignon and Tetley. She could dance like a stripper and sing like an angel. She had figured out that the perfect nail colour involved layers of different polishes. She would always remember a present you had given her, and wear it - I remember being pleased to see her, every summer, sporting a little turquoise and coral anklet I gave her for a birthday years ago, though she never pointed it out particularly. She had a quirky eye for detail. After she found out that I didn't like ice in my water, the jug by my bedside when I went to stay always had a little typed label stuck onto it - "Jo's water, no ice". In fact, she was obsessed by her electric hand-held labelling gadget: she would wander round the house with it in one hand, long slender white cigarette in the other (though she gave up smoking - finally, triumphantly - last year, after years of battling), finding things to give a name. Drawers in the kitchen: "Onions, potatoes". Shelves in the hall: "Boys' gloves". One almost expected to be presented with a label - "Darling friend", you hope it would have said - when you arrived for dinner. While one side of her life was Manolos, movie premieres and fashion parties, she also had a brilliant taste for the other side of things too. I remember her saying that her father always told her that to be truly stylish you had to throw in an element of trash. Hence the string of naked multi-coloured bulbs over the table outside. I once asked her what her idea of a real treat was. She promptly replied that it was to go and buy a cute new T-shirt from Urban Outfitters, grab a cone of Tasti-D-Lite (a cheap, low-fat frozen yoghurt) and catch a matinee at the cinema. It never made any difference to Tasha whether you were famous or not. Though her world was made up of the most talented actors of our time, many of whom - Ralph Fiennes, Meryl Streep, Ian McKellen - were close friends, it was never because of their fame that she loved them. She was unaffected by that. I was particularly struck by her even approach when she once flew the butcher from the village in France where the family holidayed every year to a movie premiere in New York, and greeted him with the same warmth she would have shown a fellow star at the afterparty. Many of her best friends were gay; perhaps this was to do with her father, Tony Richardson, though I think it was simply because they adored her. Tasha loved the movies. She always joked that at the age of three, her father must have dandled her on his knee, saying: "Movies, movies, movies." I can picture now the way she watched movies - sitting too close to the screen, with huge glasses on, shovelling salt popcorn and litres of Diet Coke. She was always so proud of her friends on screen - a phone call would often start with, "Have you seen [such-and-such] yet? Wasn't Ralph/Liam/Meryl marvellous?" She was funny, and she sure was opinionated. Be it politics or music or Aids (she had been a passionate supporter of Amfar, the Aids charity, since her father's death from the disease in 1991), she was fearless of getting into a fight - and we all did get into fights with her. We'd gird our loins if we knew there was to be a disagreement over something, over the restaurant to meet at, or whether to go backstage at a concert, or whether to wait for help from Special Services, the concierge service, at the airport - she hated flying and loved Special Services with an equal strength. I remember once, after a weekend jaunt to Miami, Tasha refused point blank to get on a plane back to New York because of a bad-weather warning. She made John Hickey, the actor and her best friend, stay at the airport hotel with her, and I flew back alone. None of us talked for days. She was always infuriatingly early to a date. I can picture her now sitting waiting for me in a restaurant, her paraphernalia spread all over the table - BlackBerry, lip gloss, sunglasses, two mobile phones, Filo-fax (she was never able to give it up, despite going digital years ago) - making some plan or another, always thinking ahead, preparing, so that everything could be perfect. I find it comforting to know that Tasha really lived life. She just had spirit. While so much of her time was taking care of the domestic and practical demands of running two homes, two complicated careers and a family, there was something of the gypsy in her. From time to time she'd need to go off and work, to become something utterly other, to disappear completely. But she always came back. How to remember that feeling of summer arriving when you'd hear her voice on the other end of the line? Her excitement and the flurry of calls and arrangements when a planned holiday came together? Her ability to disappear into the moment when she was having fun, the click-clack of her stacked espadrilles along airport corridors as she raced towards you smiling, waving and always on the phone? The gathering of friends and family at the hospital in New York last week was one of the most moving and extraordinary experiences I will ever have. There were tears and endless stories - and some laughter too. Together we watched as the world began to report the news, and smiled over what she might have said about it. She'd have been the first on the phone to discuss who printed the best pictures, who got the story right and wrong. A group of her good friends went out for lunch to a restaurant she loved, and we raised a glass of champagne to her, because "Champagne is a morning drink", as she always said. There's no question that the world will be a slighter place without her. As a towering talent, of course, but to me as a friend.
Last Edited By: JasmineStill
03/23/09 10:25.
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Mareska |
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Great article, Jasmine. Natasha seems to have been a wonderful friend. And, of course, in so many pictures of Natasha and her husband, she is looking at him
with such love in her eyes.
Her death is an immense loss. MDo you believe in always, the wind said to the rain I am too busy with my flowers to believe, the rain answered |
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Shammy the Bold |
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Liam Neeson a pallbearer as stars attend Natasha Richardson's funeral
http://women.timesonline....brity/article5956362.ece Natasha Richardson's private funeral was held at St Peter?s Episcopal Church near the couple's country home in Millbrook, 80 miles north of New York James Bone, New York Liam Neeson served as a pallbearer yesterday as he said his farewell to his wife, Natasha Richardson. The actress was laid to rest in a church graveyard a few steps from where her grandmother, Lady Redgrave, the actress Rachel Kempson, is buried. Family and close friends, including Ralph Fiennes, Holly Hunter and Uma Thurman, held a private funeral at St Peter's Episcopal Church near the couple's country home in Millbrook, 80 miles north of New York. Neeson attended the funeral with the couple' sons - Micheál, 13, and Daniel, 12 - and Richardson's mother, Vanessa Redgrave, and sister, Joely Richardson. Richardson died, aged 45, after hitting her head in a fall during a skiing lesson in Canada last Monday. Her body was transported to Millbrook after a wake in New York on Friday. Details continue to emerge of the accident on the ski slope at Mont Tremblant resort. An insider at the Quintessence hotel, where she was staying with her sons, told the website E Online that she had been intending to leave a day earlier. The source said that the family had been bothered by a smell in their suite and were moved and given a free night as an apology. Richardson's death has created controversy in Canada amid reports that she refused a helmet. The provincial government has renewed its effort to make it mandatory for skiers to wear a helmet. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Isn't life full of tragic twists? The poor woman would not have stayed the extra day if not for the smell in her room causing her to be given a free night. Are ski helmets required in some countries? Not here in the US as far as I know. I have never seen anyone wear a ski helmet. They keep mentioning this fact about Natasha as if it is some fault of hers. Jas, that was a very interesting article. I would have liked to have known Natasha...I admire her zest for life. People (including RF) keep referring to her as a fiercely loyal friend. From reading about her in various articles it sounds like what they mean is that she'd tell you exactly what she thinks, brutally honest in that respect, but the heated discussion would not diminish the friendship in any way. I can see why her friends and family will miss her greatly...she kept it real.
Last Edited By: Shammy the Bold
03/23/09 11:12.
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Eva226 |
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Thank you for the great article, Jasmine.
She must have been a joy to be around... *sigh* E.xxx
"You won't like me when I am... hungry!"
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Mareska |
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I read that it's difficult for resorts to force skiers to wear helmets because the skiers would just leave resorts that did so in order to ski at a place
that didn't make them wear headgear. All the more reason to make helmets the law. Furthermore, I think that resorts should inform skiers before they ski
that if they are knocked unconscious, even if it's just for a moment, they must go to the hospital. The chance of brain damage is too great, and that
"golden hour" after the accident is too vital. (I read that Natasha had indeed lost consciousness.) While we're at it, that part of Quebec needs
helicopter transport for medical emergencies. Even if Natasha had agreed to go to the hospital immediately, the hours-long ambulance trip to the second,
specialized hospital may have been too long for her life to be saved.
The bottom line, in my opinion, is that a person with a potentially fatal head injury should not be the judge of whether or not she goes to the hospital. She doesn't know enough about the danger, whereas an experienced ski instructor is all too familiar with such a scenario. I think the ski instructor(s) and ski patrollers surrounding Natasha were extremely worried about her; otherwise, they wouldn't have called that first ambulance or accompanied her to her room and stayed with her. She was a strong-willed person, however, and didn't give in to their warnings and concerns. That's why I don't think she should have been given a choice in the matter. I think the resort should have had a form for her to sign before, not after, the accident. I know it's too late for Natasha and the many family members, friends, and fans who have lost her. Maybe people involved in dangerous sports in the future might be required to accept protection against catastrophic injuries. Shammy, I don't think the helmet issue was Natasha's fault. She didn't know any better. The ski professionals did, but had no means of requiring her to wear one. (I realize even a helmet isn't always enough protection, but it's better than nothing.) MDo you believe in always, the wind said to the rain I am too busy with my flowers to believe, the rain answered |
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