“I Stopped Thinking About Myself”: Cate Blanchett’s Compassionate Job

It’s early afternoon of a vibrant Saturday and Central Park is in full foliage mode. Halloween is only two days away and there is something surreal about the atmosphere, something undetectable, almost timeless. 

I forgot to mention, my name is Daisy, I’m 39 and I’m a photographer. I’m a freelancer juggling multiple gigs and somehow managing to make a living out of my craft. I’m not famous enough to collaborate with prominent individuals I admire, so I usually choose subjects from my random New York encounters. The City provides an unlimited source of inspiration and Central Park, in particular, always offers a wide array of personalities. 

It’s with the objective of finding new subjects for my work that I’m strolling around the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir, hypnotized by the vivid light of the day, and cuddled by the rays of sun leaning on the eastern side of the pond. As usual, the Park does not disappoint. Walking past me I have a full spectrum of characters, some are speaking different languages, some have distinguished traits, some are even wearing Halloween costumes. While I’m in the process of getting my old-fashioned camera ready for some candid shots, a couple of women catches my attention. 

They are walking briskly towards me. The youngest must be in her early twenties and is wearing a light-colored dress, partially covered by a white coat; the other one seems to be around fifty years old and looks more formal, in a severe suit and a dark trench. They are both pretty tall, have a similar shade of blond hair, and slightly resemble one another. I can’t tell whether they might be related nor if they are wearing a costume – and if that’s the case, who are they dressed up as? I only know there is a magnetic aura that surrounds them, which I find irresistible.

As they get closer, I decide to approach them: “Excuse me… Hi, my name is Daisy and I’m a photographer here in NYC. I’m not well-known but I’m good enough to be able to pay my rent with the pictures I take. I saw you from the distance and I was hoping I could take some shots of you. Would you mind?”. They quickly exchange a pleased nod and, to my surprise, accept without hesitation. 

I see a nice spot under a tree close by and I suggest we move there. I also ask if they could tell me a bit about themselves: they look so unique and I would like to understand why.

“I’m Nina”, the young woman said with excitement and a somewhat Russian inclination. “You might have heard about me. I’m one of the characters in Anton Chekhov’s play «The Seagull»”. 

I don’t know how to respond. My eyes are still wide open in disbelief, when her companion firmly shakes my hand and introduces herself: “Pleasure to meet you, my name is Lydia, Lydia Tár. I’m a conductor. They just released a movie about my career”. 

Unsure whether I was hallucinating or was victim of a Halloween joke, I remained silent. I had recently seen TÁR at a Press Screening of the New York Film Festival and the story stayed with me. As I often do after I watch a film whose performances struck me, I gathered additional information on the actors. In my research, I came across an interesting interview to Cate Blanchett, where she discussed her early career. She mentioned that «The Seagull» was one of the first plays she performed as a professional actor. It was because of that performance, she said, that a director heard of her and wanted to cast her as Elizabeth, the role that would propel her success in cinema; it was also during that play, she added, that she met and fell in love with her husband. 

I was captivated by this story and I remember thinking two things: first, I must read «The Seagull», apparently, it’s the key for love and success to follow suit!  Second, and most important, I wish I could have been in the audience then, to watch Cate Blanchett: I can only imagine the energy she exuded. I’m sure you could see a burning flame of passion glowing around her.

Now, back to the shedding tree in Central Park, I find myself standing in front of these two women, questioning my mental health, and wondering how I am supposed to interact with them. 

Lydia seems to read my mind and interrupts my train of thoughts: “You see, Cate played both our characters, so Nina and I were discussing how it felt to be brought to life by her”. It’s now Nina that jumps in: “In my case, I had many actors performing my part, but rarely I felt the compassion and sympathy that I experienced while Cate portrayed my character. She presented me simply as I am”. 

Lydia continues “Indeed. I think we can all agree I’m not a pleasant person to embody. I’m very accomplished, but there is also a lot of obscurity that goes into my success; Cate embraced all of it not only without judgment, but also with extreme care. There were such respect and dedication in her willingness to play the piano, to learn how to conduct Mahler’s 5th symphony, and to speak German, only to render me justice, that I was deeply touched. At the end of her preparation, I was pretty sure she knew more about classical composers than I did, which honestly was a bit irritating. To the point where I was tempted to slide into my persona the passion for an extreme sport, like free climbing or skydiving, only to see how far that woman would go in supporting me. I mean, what can’t she do?!?”.

I can’t conceal a smile for Lydia’s competitive nature. 

“But most of all” Nina ponders “She kept the inner reason why I’m an actress, or Lydia is a musician, private. Although Lydia and I go through very different paths and are at different stages in our lives, we both find ourselves struggling, because we neglected the true pulsion that motivates our creativity and drives us to do what we do. That urge is very intimate and has long and deep roots. In Cate, we found that special person, who not only understood those roots, but also protected them and kept them our sacred treasure. In fact, when sharing these instances with the audience, Cate managed to convey our emotions, while still defending the intimacy of our calling. I will always be grateful for that.”

We turn to Lydia to hear her point of view. She just nods in silence, visibly moved. The scene in TÁR, where Lydia reunites with her genuine creative self, is well impressed in my mind: it is potent. 

Re-experiencing these intense moments in their stories had an effect on Lydia and Nina’s gaze and I invite them to get closer to one another for the shot. I can only hope that my pictures will be able to transmit the force there is in them, they look so majestic.

I’m looking at them together through the lenses of my camera and as I’m adjusting the exposure, something comes to my mind: “Nina, Lydia, I just remembered an interview, where Cate said that she likes looking up in the dictionary the precise meaning of the words in her lines. This helps her reinforcing her connection with the characters. I’m curious what were those words in your scripts. Do you recall?”. Lydia answers promptly: “I was surprised, but she always went back to the same word, all the time, even if I say it only once in the entire film: LOVE”. “It’s interesting” Nina comments “it’s the same word she underlined in my play too, and I remember vividly the note she wrote next to it: intense feeling of deep affection; in Germanic and in Celtic later assumed the meaning FREE”. 

I think of Cate Blanchett’s career and it couldn’t have been any other way. 

“Ladies, it’s time to take pictures now. Please move next to the trunk, I would like to see the lake in the background. Perfect. Now say: Break a leg!”. They smile and I shoot.