Thursday, March 19, 2009
"And as for me/I made my mind up back in Chelsea/When I go, I'm going like Elsie..."
I can't really believe Natasha Richardson is dead. With all the rumors flying around the past couple days, I had been hoping to discover that she had turned around and would soon be on her way to a full recovery. It was such a freak accident kind of thing, and so unexpected. I'm reminded of mine and my friends' reactions back in New York last year when Heath Ledger died, just as unexpected, and just as seemingly unfair--though more unfair, of course, to his family and friends than to the masses. Still, there is strange sense of loss to the acting world, and particularly to the world of Central, where Richardson was educated, and whose name I walk over ever time I mount the steps to the front entrance to the school (as evidenced above).
The saddest thing to me is that she was still so young. Forty-five is really nothing, and considering how much she'd accomplished in her career already, I think most of the world was excited by what she would deliver in the latter days of her life. She was also a woman not to emulate solely in her career, but in her personal life: she had a husband and two children, and somehow balanced that while working. These are things that I want for myself, and to have someone embody those ideals so well, and with so much class, talent, and poise...it's just hard to see that dissolve in a moment.
It's sad losing two alumni this academic year (first Pinter, now Richardson), and especially two alumni who did so much for the industry. As I post this, the school has yet to make any kind of formalized statement to the student body about how they will be honoring the passing of Richardson. I for one will try to be there for whatever it is they do. And until then, I'll probably be listening to the Cabaret soundtrack nonstop.